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 Bhutan and from Mumbai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Brand Nubian to the jazz 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers 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?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marvin Gaye,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gabor Szabo,
Rekid,
Crooked Eye,
Royal Trux,
Wire,
Tropical Tobacco,
Delon & Dalcan,
Minnie Riperton,
John Foxx,
Nico,
Kas Product,
The Pop Group,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nirvana,
Con Funk Shun,
Archie Shepp,
Sarah Menescal,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw,
Roxette,
Man Eating Sloth,
Organ,
The Electric Prunes,
The Remains,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quadrant,
Yazoo,
Carl Craig,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joe Finger,
Warren Ellis,
Lalann,
The Cowsills,
The Moody Blues,
Newcleus,
Delta 5,
Pere Ubu,
Ronnie Foster,
the Soft Cell,
Underground Resistance,
Flash Fearless,
Eric Dolphy,
Lakeside,
The Sound,
The Saints,
Theoretical Girls,
The Martian,
Mandrill,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faust,
Grey Daturas,
LL Cool J,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.