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 Ireland 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Slick Rick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
DNA,
John Holt,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alton Ellis,
The Gap Band,
The J.B.'s,
Robert Wyatt,
The Real Kids,
Unwound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cal Tjader,
Byron Stingily,
Matthew Bourne,
D'Angelo,
The New Christs,
Chrome,
The Cowsills,
Danielle Patucci,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Clear Light,
Pussy Galore,
Royal Trux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Monochrome Set,
Suburban Knight,
LL Cool J,
Ituana,
MDC,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare,
The Misunderstood,
The Gories,
The Mojo Men,
Funky Four + One,
Kas Product,
Graham Central Station,
Black Pus,
Bluetip,
The Seeds,
The Doors,
Pylon,
The Black Dice,
Sun Ra,
Angry Samoans,
Country Teasers,
Sex Pistols,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Roxette,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fugs,
Barry Ungar,
The Smiths,
Gang Starr,
Roy Ayers,
Stereo Dub,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.