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 France and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joe Smooth to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
The Moody Blues,
the Slits,
The Fuzztones,
Rakim,
Mr. Review,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Supertramp,
Janne Schatter,
Pagans,
Sun Ra,
Pere Ubu,
the Bar-Kays,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gun Club,
cv313,
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oneida,
Mo-Dettes,
Malaria!,
Circle Jerks,
Heaven 17,
Minor Threat,
Ken Boothe,
Stiv Bators,
The Toasters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Index,
Terry Callier,
Gichy Dan,
Arcadia,
Black Pus,
Smog,
Dark Day,
Amon Düül,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nick Fraelich,
Camberwell Now,
X-102,
The Saints,
Jimmy McGriff,
June of 44,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
The Residents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Move,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Maurizio,
Dennis Brown,
Mad Mike,
Sexual Harrassment,
Groovy Waters,
A Certain Ratio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oblivians,
Chris Corsano,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
Colin Newman,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.