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 Sierra Leone and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Duran Duran to the grunge 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Derrick Morgan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fluxion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Near,
Hoover,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pantaleimon,
Man Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlback,
Franke,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New Order,
Index,
Faust,
Reuben Wilson,
Bizarre Inc.,
Flamin' Groovies,
Amon Düül II,
Essential Logic,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
The Dead C,
The Angels of Light,
The Kinks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mantronix,
Ultravox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sam Rivers,
Newcleus,
Nirvana,
Jawbox,
Mo-Dettes,
Rapeman,
Sonic Youth,
Colin Newman,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
Sight & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
The Durutti Column,
June Days,
Delta 5,
OOIOO,
Amazonics,
Procol Harum,
The Gories,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Foxx,
Crash Course in Science,
DNA,
Main Source,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.