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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Cecil Taylor to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Blancmange,
A Certain Ratio,
Mantronix,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Joensuu 1685,
Man Eating Sloth,
Smog,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Easy Going,
Maleditus Sound,
Agitation Free,
Davy DMX,
Skaos,
Byron Stingily,
Darondo,
Average White Band,
Kayak,
Ituana,
Unrelated Segments,
Trumans Water,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers,
Eric Dolphy,
Japan,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scratch Acid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sandy B,
The Mummies,
the Swans,
The Cramps,
Fat Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Piero Umiliani,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aural Exciters,
June Days,
Black Moon,
K-Klass,
Simply Red,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Banda Bassotti,
DNA,
The Stooges,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
The Happenings,
The Fugs,
Make Up,
Royal Trux,
Sight & Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Anakelly,
Ultra Naté,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.