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 Bolivia and from Toronto.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jerry's Kids to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Vainqueur,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Trojans,
Royal Trux,
Kenny Larkin,
The Happenings,
Little Man,
Bush Tetras,
Underground Resistance,
Agent Orange,
Harmonia,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Mr. Review,
Flipper,
X-Ray Spex,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Electric Prunes,
The Dirtbombs,
AZ,
Skarface,
Joensuu 1685,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Massinfluence,
Sister Nancy,
The Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
One Last Wish,
Shuggie Otis,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Dark Day,
Dead Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Chris Corsano,
Matthew Halsall,
B.T. Express,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smiths,
Country Teasers,
Patti Smith,
Don Cherry,
The Motions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cymande,
The Zeros,
Liliput,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Vogues,
Hoover,
The Evens,
Technova,
Jesper Dahlback,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.