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 Solomon Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Ohio Players to the crunk 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lower 48,
The J.B.'s,
Duran Duran,
The Buckinghams,
Masters at Work,
Bauhaus,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
LL Cool J,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Monks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Black Pus,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chrome,
Hoover,
Lou Christie,
Aural Exciters,
Ultravox,
Judy Mowatt,
Visage,
Clear Light,
Morten Harket,
Banda Bassotti,
Rapeman,
Wolf Eyes,
Radio Birdman,
Tom Boy,
The Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eric B and Rakim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Andrew Hill,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bad Manners,
Circle Jerks,
Skarface,
The Modern Lovers,
Blossom Toes,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fugs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joe Finger,
The Saints,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Y Pants,
Camouflage,
Roxette,
Suburban Knight,
Ornette Coleman,
The Remains,
Sonic Youth,
Delta 5,
Sister Nancy,
The Durutti Column,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Excepter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.