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 Romania and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the electroclash 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cheater Slicks,
Brick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
Q65,
Niagra,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Bananas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Drexciya,
Massinfluence,
The Raincoats,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler,
Ornette Coleman,
This Heat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alice Coltrane,
Mary Jane Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wally Richardson,
The Misunderstood,
Sonic Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Fugs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lungfish,
Lakeside,
Trumans Water,
The Flesh Eaters,
Quantec,
Byron Stingily,
Maurizio,
Skarface,
Visage,
John Holt,
Drive Like Jehu,
X-Ray Spex,
China Crisis,
Kool Moe Dee,
Al Stewart,
Bauhaus,
Wasted Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Heaven 17,
Goldenarms,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Soft Cell,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lower 48,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Terry Callier,
The Busters,
Fugazi,
Marvin Gaye,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.