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 Cape Verde and from Tehran.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Aaron Thompson to the electroclash 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Velvet Underground,
Black Moon,
KRS-One,
Gong,
Arthur Verocai,
The Evens,
The Martian,
Sun City Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Pulsallama,
the Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alison Limerick,
Mary Jane Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Cluster,
T. Rex,
Davy DMX,
Intrusion,
Mandrill,
Mantronix,
The Gladiators,
Roger Hodgson,
Deakin,
Monks,
Bill Wells,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sugar Minott,
The Seeds,
Maleditus Sound,
The United States of America,
Jandek,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Lynne,
Kenny Larkin,
Warsaw,
Albert Ayler,
Los Fastidios,
June Days,
Eric B and Rakim,
Altered Images,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marmalade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül,
the Swans,
Soul II Soul,
Icehouse,
Scientists,
Cameo,
Panda Bear,
The Buckinghams,
Howard Jones,
Heaven 17,
Quantec,
Bluetip,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Slits,
Moss Icon,
Malaria!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.