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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sonic Youth to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
The Index,
Babytalk,
Dual Sessions,
Alphaville,
Dead Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
Moby Grape,
Bad Manners,
Outsiders,
Anthony Braxton,
Nirvana,
Excepter,
Josef K,
Mad Mike,
Procol Harum,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Osbourne,
Schoolly D,
Rapeman,
Wire,
Byron Stingily,
Second Layer,
Audionom,
Mark Hollis,
Organ,
Marc Almond,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Sherman,
Shuggie Otis,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
D'Angelo,
Bill Wells,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Slits,
Rod Modell,
The Grass Roots,
The Techniques,
Gabor Szabo,
Goldenarms,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sandy B,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
Gang Starr,
Sister Nancy,
Agitation Free,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-Ray Spex,
L. Decosne,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Copeland,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scott Walker,
Surgeon,
Make Up,
Swell Maps,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.