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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Alarm Clocks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Deakin,
Swell Maps,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Terry Callier,
Albert Ayler,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wings,
Maleditus Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dennis Brown,
The American Breed,
Davy DMX,
Monks,
Graham Central Station,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
48th St. Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Banda Bassotti,
Siglo XX,
the Sonics,
Danielle Patucci,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Matthew Bourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skarface,
The Dead C,
The Skatalites,
The Fuzztones,
Ohio Players,
Dark Day,
The Misunderstood,
Organ,
Avey Tare,
Section 25,
Alice Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
Laurel Aitken,
The Music Machine,
Absolute Body Control,
Rhythm & Sound,
Godley & Creme,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Warren Ellis,
James White and The Blacks,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Style,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Association,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gregory Isaacs,
Porter Ricks,
The Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blackbyrds,
Kaleidoscope,
Maurizio,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.