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 Grenada and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Scrapy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Vladislav Delay,
Infiniti,
Arthur Verocai,
Albert Ayler,
The Trojans,
Adolescents,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Max Romeo,
Black Bananas,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Massinfluence,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
cv313,
Henry Cow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Starr,
Jandek,
The Blues Magoos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roxette,
Radiopuhelimet,
Grey Daturas,
The Mummies,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Tom Boy,
Boredoms,
Wasted Youth,
Das Ding,
Mandrill,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Human League,
Darondo,
Severed Heads,
Popol Vuh,
the Swans,
Black Flag,
Rekid,
Tomorrow,
The Golliwogs,
Lungfish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
K-Klass,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Duran Duran,
Franke,
Groovy Waters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Underground Resistance,
Lyres,
Carl Craig,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.