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 Chad and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Soulsonic Force to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Quando Quango,
Fugazi,
Organ,
Rekid,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Starr,
Wasted Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sound,
Yaz,
Johnny Clarke,
Monks,
Pylon,
Ken Boothe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lower 48,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Boredoms,
Susan Cadogan,
Toni Rubio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Urselle,
Sonic Youth,
Swans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxy Music,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jandek,
Bang On A Can,
Rites of Spring,
David Axelrod,
Amazonics,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
China Crisis,
Roy Ayers,
Scratch Acid,
Los Fastidios,
Au Pairs,
Carl Craig,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Symarip,
the Sonics,
Barbara Tucker,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed,
Simply Red,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jacob Miller,
U.S. Maple,
Eli Mardock,
Lalann,
Gang Green,
The Toasters,
The Dead C,
The Slackers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Underground Resistance,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.