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 Botswana and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
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 spring reverb 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 Model 500 to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Lou Christie,
Piero Umiliani,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bauhaus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hashim,
Gang Green,
Procol Harum,
Sam Rivers,
Pantytec,
In Retrospect,
Glenn Branca,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Rapeman,
The Velvet Underground,
a-ha,
X-Ray Spex,
Boz Scaggs,
Yusef Lateef,
The Selecter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wally Richardson,
the Slits,
Metal Thangz,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
These Immortal Souls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Siglo XX,
DNA,
Joy Division,
Ornette Coleman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
Bronski Beat,
Sister Nancy,
Connie Case,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dave Gahan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Victims,
Faust,
The Skatalites,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord,
Alison Limerick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Litter,
The Walker Brothers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Sherman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Depeche Mode,
Radiopuhelimet,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.