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 Turkmenistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Derrick Morgan to the grime 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Harmonia,
Roxy Music,
Shuggie Otis,
Eurythmics,
Nas,
Aural Exciters,
Hashim,
Ronnie Foster,
Saccharine Trust,
Steve Hackett,
The Litter,
Easy Going,
Model 500,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ornette Coleman,
Malaria!,
Swell Maps,
Mad Mike,
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ludus,
Brand Nubian,
Crime,
The Motions,
Scott Walker,
Tubeway Army,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yaz,
Rod Modell,
Outsiders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Charles Mingus,
Sparks,
Pulsallama,
Shoche,
Faraquet,
Rites of Spring,
Amon Düül II,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Association,
Sugar Minott,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Walker Brothers,
Loose Ends,
The Mighty Diamonds,
a-ha,
Second Layer,
Desert Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Minutemen,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Sheep,
Fear,
Technova,
The Barracudas,
Young Marble Giants,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.