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 Vanuatu and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Au Pairs to the jazz 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mars,
Spandau Ballet,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Carl Craig,
Andrew Hill,
FM Einheit,
Pierre Henry,
John Holt,
Yusef Lateef,
Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Con Funk Shun,
Inner City,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Nico,
Suicide,
Vainqueur,
Malaria!,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Victims,
Sparks,
The Smiths,
Bob Dylan,
Blossom Toes,
The Remains,
8 Eyed Spy,
cv313,
The Doobie Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Amazonics,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The United States of America,
Robert Hood,
Electric Prunes,
Marvin Gaye,
The Busters,
Swans,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Last Poets,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nation of Ulysses,
DNA,
David McCallum,
Marc Almond,
Camouflage,
Derrick May,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pulsallama,
Jerry's Kids,
Joy Division,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Skarface,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.