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 Uganda and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 Procol Harum to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Saccharine Trust,
Ten City,
Bluetip,
The Durutti Column,
Eric Copeland,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Motorama,
T.S.O.L.,
Supertramp,
Talk Talk,
Glenn Branca,
Alice Coltrane,
the Bar-Kays,
Alphaville,
Lightning Bolt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Görl,
Hoover,
Donny Hathaway,
The Mojo Men,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Visage,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Knickerbockers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Evens,
Das Ding,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dirtbombs,
Reuben Wilson,
Camberwell Now,
Don Cherry,
Grey Daturas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Skarface,
Godley & Creme,
Prince Buster,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Offenders,
The Five Americans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul II Soul,
Lungfish,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-Ray Spex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blake Baxter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Moon,
Absolute Body Control,
Banda Bassotti,
Second Layer,
Marc Almond,
The Mummies,
the Association,
The Cosmic Jokers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert 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.