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 Bolivia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar 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 Associates 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Cale,
James White and The Blacks,
Bauhaus,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ronan,
Loose Ends,
The Walker Brothers,
Eddi Front,
Marvin Gaye,
B.T. Express,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pylon,
Cal Tjader,
Carl Craig,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T. Rex,
Negative Approach,
Panda Bear,
Donald Byrd,
Los Fastidios,
June Days,
Hasil Adkins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Yusef Lateef,
Jeru the Damaja,
New York Dolls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca,
The Wake,
Outsiders,
Drexciya,
Robert Hood,
Japan,
Prince Buster,
The Velvet Underground,
Rufus Thomas,
The Leaves,
Brothers Johnson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fortunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Urselle,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance,
Johnny Clarke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Magma,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Searchers,
the Swans,
The Misunderstood,
Camouflage,
Roxette,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Seeds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blake Baxter,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.