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 Burkina and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Hardrive to the electroclash 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kenny Larkin,
The Grass Roots,
Lindisfarne,
Das Ding,
Trumans Water,
Davy DMX,
Minutemen,
Ponytail,
The Gap Band,
Sister Nancy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Monks,
Erykah Badu,
Buzzcocks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
OOIOO,
Moss Icon,
The Trojans,
Kayak,
Colin Newman,
Nick Fraelich,
Nik Kershaw,
Rapeman,
Sarah Menescal,
Qualms,
Marshall Jefferson,
Patti Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Banda Bassotti,
Joe Smooth,
8 Eyed Spy,
10cc,
UT,
Al Stewart,
Joy Division,
Marc Almond,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Max Romeo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Sneak,
Dual Sessions,
Blake Baxter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Christie,
Tommy Roe,
June Days,
Bill Wells,
Danielle Patucci,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Bananas,
Cymande,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.