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 Guatemala 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
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 theremin 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 The Modern Lovers to the disco 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jacob Miller,
The Monochrome Set,
Fear,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scan 7,
Khruangbin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bush Tetras,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scott Walker,
Spandau Ballet,
the Soft Cell,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeff Mills,
Isaac Hayes,
Amazonics,
Stetsasonic,
Liliput,
The Misunderstood,
Pantytec,
Eric Copeland,
Monks,
Pylon,
Section 25,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shoche,
Suburban Knight,
Country Teasers,
Ralphi Rosario,
U.S. Maple,
Basic Channel,
The Five Americans,
Nick Fraelich,
The Buckinghams,
The Dirtbombs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Surgeon,
Depeche Mode,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unwound,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
Sixth Finger,
Bill Wells,
The Busters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Supertramp,
Blake Baxter,
Laurel Aitken,
Stockholm Monsters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Intrusion,
ABBA,
Donny Hathaway,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.