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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Flesh Eaters to the dance 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
The Fire Engines,
Maleditus Sound,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Sherman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Siglo XX,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swans,
Make Up,
Audionom,
Accadde A,
Mandrill,
Urselle,
Brass Construction,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nils Olav,
Funky Four + One,
Spoonie Gee,
DJ Style,
Ituana,
Whodini,
Ultra Naté,
Boz Scaggs,
Faust,
X-101,
Roger Hodgson,
Warren Ellis,
Brick,
Letta Mbulu,
Spandau Ballet,
Massinfluence,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alton Ellis,
Thee Headcoats,
Animal Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delta 5,
This Heat,
David Bowie,
Piero Umiliani,
Monks,
Adolescents,
Jacques Brel,
Ultimate Spinach,
Connie Case,
Man Eating Sloth,
Young Marble Giants,
Pagans,
The Alarm Clocks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eve St. Jones,
Mark Hollis,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dual Sessions,
Gichy Dan,
Patti Smith,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.