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 Tonga and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Agent Orange to the grime 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Jandek,
The Moleskins,
Outsiders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minor Threat,
Livin' Joy,
The Leaves,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Clear Light,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alice Coltrane,
Blancmange,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed,
Flipper,
Talk Talk,
UT,
KRS-One,
Hardrive,
Toni Rubio,
Soft Machine,
Monks,
Essential Logic,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
Harmonia,
Quadrant,
Lou Christie,
Minnie Riperton,
Steve Hackett,
Lalann,
Nils Olav,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sixth Finger,
Henry Cow,
Thompson Twins,
Tropical Tobacco,
Animal Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
The Selecter,
Rakim,
Iggy Pop,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
Audionom,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Görl,
Moebius,
Dawn Penn,
Massinfluence,
Adolescents,
Letta Mbulu,
The Count Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.