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 Denmark and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang Starr,
Scan 7,
John Lydon,
Peter and Kerry,
H. Thieme,
The Detroit Cobras,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalann,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joey Negro,
Duran Duran,
The Stooges,
Quantec,
Eden Ahbez,
Pagans,
Matthew Bourne,
The Vogues,
Pierre Henry,
The Litter,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Severed Heads,
Gerry Rafferty,
Youth Brigade,
Byron Stingily,
Ice-T,
the Bar-Kays,
Rapeman,
Lightning Bolt,
The Invisible,
Animal Collective,
Tom Boy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Pretty Things,
Rakim,
The Cure,
Can,
The Durutti Column,
Niagra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Zero Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fuzztones,
Eddi Front,
ABC,
The Red Krayola,
Barry Ungar,
Section 25,
Ronan,
Sixth Finger,
Japan,
Erykah Badu,
the Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
The Raincoats,
Silicon Teens,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.