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 Tunisia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 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 Niagra to the punk 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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
the Slits,
Silicon Teens,
the Germs,
Arthur Verocai,
The Angels of Light,
Dennis Brown,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Modern Lovers,
Joe Smooth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Symarip,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxette,
Panda Bear,
Sparks,
Bill Near,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Music Machine,
Franke,
Cameo,
Tim Buckley,
Traffic Nightmare,
Juan Atkins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wolf Eyes,
Kurtis Blow,
Stiv Bators,
The Names,
Nas,
Dark Day,
Stetsasonic,
Brick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barbara Tucker,
Maurizio,
Derrick May,
Boredoms,
DJ Sneak,
Mars,
Davy DMX,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Section 25,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Beau Brummels,
Mark Hollis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minny Pops,
Chris Corsano,
Pantytec,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Sherman,
Moss Icon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Qualms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Khruangbin,
Infiniti,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.