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 Congo and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Peter and Kerry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Visage,
Roy Ayers,
K-Klass,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rekid,
Japan,
Tears for Fears,
The Real Kids,
Throbbing Gristle,
Funkadelic,
Agent Orange,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Piero Umiliani,
Monolake,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris & Cosey,
Whodini,
The Litter,
Joy Division,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
cv313,
John Foxx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Stooges,
David Bowie,
Terrestrial Tones,
Godley & Creme,
Smog,
The Trojans,
Severed Heads,
Saccharine Trust,
Janne Schatter,
Marine Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Moody Blues,
The New Christs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
David Axelrod,
Fatback Band,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Remains,
Eli Mardock,
The Slackers,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.