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 Madagascar and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar 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 Gang Starr to the jazz 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mr. Review,
Faust,
The Last Poets,
Visage,
Blancmange,
The Motions,
Pantaleimon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Young Marble Giants,
Bluetip,
June of 44,
Spoonie Gee,
Little Man,
Clear Light,
Glenn Branca,
UT,
Neil Young,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gong,
Bad Manners,
Black Sheep,
The Real Kids,
Negative Approach,
Second Layer,
Bill Wells,
Shuggie Otis,
the Human League,
Dennis Brown,
Man Parrish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Morten Harket,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
Reagan Youth,
Q and Not U,
AZ,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
the Germs,
Lyres,
Rod Modell,
Laurel Aitken,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Certain Ratio,
Lee Hazlewood,
Swans,
Spandau Ballet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
Al Stewart,
The Mummies,
Newcleus,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Khruangbin,
Parry Music,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.