Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Argentina and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Stetsasonic to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Piero Umiliani,
Derrick May,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barbara Tucker,
KRS-One,
Darondo,
Heaven 17,
Neu!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
Q and Not U,
Arab on Radar,
Hasil Adkins,
Crime,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Amazonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Mr. Review,
John Holt,
Ludus,
Pantytec,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
K-Klass,
Spandau Ballet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drexciya,
Joensuu 1685,
Slave,
Juan Atkins,
48th St. Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gun Club,
Sandy B,
Livin' Joy,
Tommy Roe,
Sun Ra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Theoretical Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fela Kuti,
The Fortunes,
The Stooges,
Maleditus Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Don Cherry,
Guru Guru,
Joe Smooth,
The Toasters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crooked Eye,
E-Dancer,
Lakeside,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.