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 San Marino and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arthur Verocai,
Fluxion,
The Cowsills,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas,
Theoretical Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Althea and Donna,
The Smoke,
The Fire Engines,
The Five Americans,
Glenn Branca,
Piero Umiliani,
Funky Four + One,
Duran Duran,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fortunes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Average White Band,
Urselle,
Soft Cell,
Crime,
The Gladiators,
Dark Day,
Bauhaus,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül,
Terry Callier,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Gun Club,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nik Kershaw,
Bill Wells,
The Offenders,
Stetsasonic,
Howard Jones,
Rosa Yemen,
Eden Ahbez,
Deepchord,
PIL,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Martian,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Moon,
Reagan Youth,
David McCallum,
Jandek,
Graham Central Station,
Zapp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
B.T. Express,
The Gories,
The Last Poets,
Dorothy Ashby,
Buzzcocks,
Camberwell Now,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.