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 Brazil and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 The Electric Prunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ossler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama,
Underground Resistance,
Tres Demented,
New Order,
Nils Olav,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glenn Branca,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Interpol,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Agent Orange,
Agitation Free,
Donny Hathaway,
The Skatalites,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minor Threat,
Au Pairs,
Leonard Cohen,
Tommy Roe,
Flipper,
Yaz,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Slits,
Ituana,
The Kinks,
Quantec,
Eve St. Jones,
Kas Product,
Schoolly D,
Deepchord,
Deadbeat,
The Star Department,
The Searchers,
Don Cherry,
Howard Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jacques Brel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Y Pants,
Sugar Minott,
Vladislav Delay,
The Index,
Gang Green,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.