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 Moldova and from New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar 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 Altered Images to the techno 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
The Music Machine,
Black Flag,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arab on Radar,
Nas,
Sugar Minott,
the Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Byrd,
Stetsasonic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DNA,
B.T. Express,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sandy B,
Scrapy,
Patti Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Camberwell Now,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dirtbombs,
Warren Ellis,
The Zeros,
R.M.O.,
Bobby Womack,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Masters at Work,
Stereo Dub,
Siglo XX,
Neil Young,
The Young Rascals,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
Outsiders,
Banda Bassotti,
Half Japanese,
Television,
Suburban Knight,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
The Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bush Tetras,
Pulsallama,
Radio Birdman,
Whodini,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Durutti Column,
the Fania All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
The Cramps,
Wire,
The Leaves,
The Evens,
Fear,
Kas Product,
The Kinks,
Arcadia,
PIL,
Spoonie Gee,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.