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 Tunisia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 David Bowie to the funk 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Tomorrow,
Infiniti,
Ice-T,
KRS-One,
This Heat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aaron Thompson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
China Crisis,
Main Source,
Mo-Dettes,
Cymande,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Half Japanese,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
48th St. Collective,
Swans,
The Fire Engines,
the Association,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monochrome Set,
Leonard Cohen,
Motorama,
Boredoms,
Cheater Slicks,
The Busters,
June of 44,
Suburban Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Martian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric B and Rakim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moebius,
Marc Almond,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Toasters,
Yellowson,
Au Pairs,
the Bar-Kays,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Morten Harket,
Liliput,
The Fuzztones,
Henry Cow,
Minutemen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gichy Dan,
Fugazi,
Eric Dolphy,
Rites of Spring,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.