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 Malaysia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Peter & Gordon to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
The Happenings,
Groovy Waters,
Scion,
Andrew Hill,
Bang On A Can,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cluster,
Leonard Cohen,
Malaria!,
Franke,
John Cale,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Durutti Column,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Sherman,
K-Klass,
Idris Muhammad,
Ultra Naté,
Tubeway Army,
Liliput,
Marshall Jefferson,
Chris & Cosey,
Harry Pussy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Saints,
Japan,
Roxy Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arcadia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Unrelated Segments,
Porter Ricks,
Urselle,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reagan Youth,
U.S. Maple,
KRS-One,
The Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
Glenn Branca,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Busters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Count Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gap Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang of Four,
The Sonics,
Mars,
Sarah Menescal,
The Red Krayola,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.