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 Cyprus and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Nas to the grime 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
X-101,
The Residents,
Lightning Bolt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Sonics,
Au Pairs,
Hoover,
Qualms,
The Modern Lovers,
Unrelated Segments,
T. Rex,
Slave,
Mark Hollis,
Chrome,
The Stooges,
The Flesh Eaters,
Trumans Water,
The Fall,
Barry Ungar,
Loose Ends,
Robert Wyatt,
Eric Dolphy,
The Count Five,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Walker Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
Funkadelic,
Archie Shepp,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wally Richardson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joey Negro,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Golliwogs,
Hardrive,
Scan 7,
Tomorrow,
Deakin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol,
The Young Rascals,
Erykah Badu,
H. Thieme,
The Mummies,
Lebanon Hanover,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
Rakim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pere Ubu,
The Cure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
kango's stein massive,
Ten City,
Alphaville,
Animal Collective,
Make Up,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.