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 Iraq and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Stiv Bators to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The New Christs,
Metal Thangz,
Bluetip,
Drexciya,
Y Pants,
Barry Ungar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mandrill,
EPMD,
Harmonia,
Mad Mike,
Chrome,
Roxette,
Delta 5,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Japan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Infiniti,
Marc Almond,
Lyres,
Terry Callier,
Aural Exciters,
Anthony Braxton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
Massinfluence,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Teasers,
Hashim,
Guru Guru,
Kevin Saunderson,
Duran Duran,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monochrome Set,
Television,
Suburban Knight,
Kaleidoscope,
Boz Scaggs,
Theoretical Girls,
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
Scrapy,
L. Decosne,
Joyce Sims,
Buzzcocks,
Todd Rundgren,
Outsiders,
Dark Day,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crime,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Stiv Bators,
Soft Cell,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.