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 Rwanda and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Slave to the dance 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
New Order,
Panda Bear,
Gong,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monolake,
the Association,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones,
Nas,
The Moleskins,
The Move,
Pere Ubu,
Cal Tjader,
The J.B.'s,
Jimmy McGriff,
Piero Umiliani,
Rotary Connection,
The Mojo Men,
Slick Rick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed,
Deadbeat,
Carl Craig,
Oneida,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
Harmonia,
UT,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pulsallama,
The Five Americans,
Circle Jerks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Zeros,
Pantaleimon,
Al Stewart,
Sight & Sound,
Minutemen,
Crash Course in Science,
Outsiders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lightning Bolt,
Anakelly,
The Victims,
Popol Vuh,
Duran Duran,
Scott Walker,
Excepter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brick,
Graham Central Station,
Eddi Front,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.