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 Turkmenistan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cramps to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lindisfarne,
Lower 48,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Five Americans,
Toni Rubio,
The Dirtbombs,
the Bar-Kays,
John Cale,
Joy Division,
London Community Gospel Choir,
D'Angelo,
The Seeds,
Ossler,
Avey Tare,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Terry Callier,
Surgeon,
Moss Icon,
Derrick May,
H. Thieme,
The Residents,
New Age Steppers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ponytail,
T. Rex,
The Techniques,
Sällskapet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mandrill,
Chris & Cosey,
Chris Corsano,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Coltrane,
In Retrospect,
Jacob Miller,
Grauzone,
Janne Schatter,
The Divine Comedy,
Con Funk Shun,
Pagans,
Pylon,
Youth Brigade,
The Music Machine,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Human League,
Theoretical Girls,
Matthew Halsall,
Stockholm Monsters,
Accadde A,
Hot Snakes,
Don Cherry,
Barrington Levy,
MDC,
Juan Atkins,
Soft Cell,
Scan 7,
Gang Green,
the Soft Cell,
Pulsallama,
Boz Scaggs,
Hasil Adkins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.