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 Montenegro and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Mary Jane Girls to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gun Club,
The Electric Prunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Country Teasers,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Starr,
Crooked Eye,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Organ,
Terrestrial Tones,
Funky Four + One,
Scrapy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brass Construction,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Sneak,
the Human League,
Moss Icon,
Stetsasonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tubeway Army,
The Toasters,
Y Pants,
Babytalk,
Dead Boys,
Charles Mingus,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
Derrick May,
Dark Day,
Quadrant,
Mars,
Desert Stars,
Heaven 17,
Nick Fraelich,
Alice Coltrane,
Lungfish,
Khruangbin,
Don Cherry,
Bill Wells,
The Stooges,
The Angels of Light,
Urselle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Malaria!,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Red Krayola,
Eli Mardock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
Parry Music,
Eve St. Jones,
Siglo XX,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bang On A Can,
Hashim,
Davy DMX,
The Smoke,
Kenny Larkin,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.