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 Liechtenstein and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Faust,
The Wake,
Black Sheep,
Barry Ungar,
Kurtis Blow,
Sam Rivers,
Black Pus,
Radiohead,
Saccharine Trust,
Metal Thangz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
Shuggie Otis,
the Normal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Quantec,
Aaron Thompson,
Tommy Roe,
Can,
The Five Americans,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Knickerbockers,
Cybotron,
KRS-One,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
New Age Steppers,
Danielle Patucci,
Kayak,
Matthew Bourne,
Quadrant,
Joe Finger,
The Mighty Diamonds,
James White and The Blacks,
Fat Boys,
The Last Poets,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lyres,
Half Japanese,
In Retrospect,
The Moleskins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fuzztones,
Roxette,
Shoche,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harry Pussy,
Carl Craig,
The Gories,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joy Division,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Agitation Free,
JFA,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.