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 Marshall Islands and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Jeff Lynne to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Crime,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Zeros,
Hasil Adkins,
Bluetip,
Altered Images,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
UT,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crooked Eye,
Lalo Schifrin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Vogues,
The Buckinghams,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gong,
Swell Maps,
Hoover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quantec,
Massinfluence,
Jawbox,
Nick Fraelich,
Unwound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Don Cherry,
Boredoms,
Surgeon,
The Misunderstood,
Pierre Henry,
The Fugs,
the Association,
Magazine,
Ken Boothe,
The Raincoats,
the Sonics,
The Doors,
Marmalade,
Erasure,
Brothers Johnson,
Q65,
Junior Murvin,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minor Threat,
Zero Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Second Layer,
ABC,
Lou Christie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Symarip,
OOIOO,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.