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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tokyo.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jawbox to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Laurel Aitken,
Half Japanese,
Scientists,
Soft Machine,
The Monochrome Set,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Vogues,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Christie,
Patti Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yusef Lateef,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Flag,
Quadrant,
Tom Boy,
New York Dolls,
Sister Nancy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
Hardrive,
The Mojo Men,
Fat Boys,
The Cure,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
Mission of Burma,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Style,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
James White and The Blacks,
Donny Hathaway,
Deakin,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Boz Scaggs,
the Sonics,
The Velvet Underground,
Q and Not U,
Piero Umiliani,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Zero Boys,
Blossom Toes,
These Immortal Souls,
Kas Product,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Starr,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.