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 Colombia and from Columbus.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Harry Pussy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Marmalade,
New Order,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jacques Brel,
Flipper,
Joey Negro,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Heaven 17,
Sonny Sharrock,
James White and The Blacks,
E-Dancer,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rufus Thomas,
The Mojo Men,
Moby Grape,
Robert Görl,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Model 500,
Man Parrish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Swans,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Monochrome Set,
Ludus,
Suicide,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soft Cell,
Isaac Hayes,
The Busters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
T. Rex,
Symarip,
The Star Department,
Cameo,
Ornette Coleman,
Yaz,
The Standells,
Faust,
The Searchers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Radiohead,
Charles Mingus,
Quadrant,
Peter and Kerry,
Leonard Cohen,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pole,
Blossom Toes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Colin Newman,
The Move,
Motorama,
Chris & Cosey,
Lungfish,
Banda Bassotti,
Wings,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brand Nubian,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.