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 Kosovo and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Ornette Coleman to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
The Standells,
James White and The Blacks,
Rites of Spring,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Anakelly,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cymande,
Thee Headcoats,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gichy Dan,
the Bar-Kays,
Ken Boothe,
The Cure,
Panda Bear,
Jawbox,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boz Scaggs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Babytalk,
Harry Pussy,
Ituana,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Agitation Free,
Tommy Roe,
the Germs,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Alton Ellis,
Black Pus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
ABC,
The Gladiators,
Pylon,
U.S. Maple,
Hasil Adkins,
Marvin Gaye,
Bobby Sherman,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gabor Szabo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Con Funk Shun,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Saints,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.