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 Mozambique and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Loose Ends to the grime 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Raincoats,
Theoretical Girls,
Skarface,
The Walker Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
This Heat,
Matthew Halsall,
Young Marble Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Davy DMX,
Goldenarms,
Howard Jones,
The Saints,
Depeche Mode,
Hot Snakes,
Agent Orange,
the Fania All-Stars,
In Retrospect,
One Last Wish,
Sarah Menescal,
Radiopuhelimet,
Donny Hathaway,
Buzzcocks,
Joyce Sims,
Jeff Mills,
Scion,
Morten Harket,
Oneida,
David Bowie,
Flash Fearless,
Gabor Szabo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Model 500,
The Birthday Party,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Derrick May,
the Sonics,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fire Engines,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Invisible,
The American Breed,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Magazine,
The Litter,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
E-Dancer,
Symarip,
DJ Style,
Make Up,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moss Icon,
The Fortunes,
The Toasters,
Franke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.