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 Eritrea and from Glasgow.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eli Mardock 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
K-Klass,
U.S. Maple,
Guru Guru,
Surgeon,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
In Retrospect,
Dave Gahan,
The Mummies,
Matthew Halsall,
Camouflage,
Funky Four + One,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Monochrome Set,
Roger Hodgson,
Half Japanese,
Moss Icon,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare,
The Count Five,
Mark Hollis,
Alphaville,
The Mojo Men,
The Sonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lalo Schifrin,
Drexciya,
Moby Grape,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tim Buckley,
UT,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Interpol,
Yazoo,
Y Pants,
The Vogues,
Minnie Riperton,
Juan Atkins,
The Birthday Party,
The Gap Band,
Supertramp,
John Coltrane,
Deepchord,
Byron Stingily,
Bauhaus,
The Smiths,
Can,
Agent Orange,
kango's stein massive,
Carl Craig,
Soulsonic Force,
Tomorrow,
Aswad,
Swans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Babytalk,
Monolake,
The Standells,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.