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 Australia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 London and Portland.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Five Americans to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Bad Manners,
Mantronix,
Tomorrow,
Junior Murvin,
The Cramps,
The Walker Brothers,
Blancmange,
The Saints,
Nas,
B.T. Express,
Index,
Audionom,
Grandmaster Flash,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fluxion,
The Pretty Things,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Flag,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Raincoats,
Hot Snakes,
June of 44,
Icehouse,
Lalann,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Golliwogs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Coltrane,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Doors,
Crooked Eye,
Maurizio,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronnie Foster,
Goldenarms,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dirtbombs,
Slave,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
Deepchord,
Unrelated Segments,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Byron Stingily,
Procol Harum,
David McCallum,
Kas Product,
Brick,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Leaves,
48th St. Collective,
Danielle Patucci,
Peter and Kerry,
David Axelrod,
Rotary Connection,
Banda Bassotti,
Carl Craig,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Patti Smith,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Smog,
Peter & Gordon,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.