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 Paraguay and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
Rod Modell,
Gang Green,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dead C,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gun Club,
The Index,
The Misunderstood,
Sandy B,
Popol Vuh,
ABBA,
Blake Baxter,
Dark Day,
The Standells,
Spandau Ballet,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Almond,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Enemy,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
Mark Hollis,
Organ,
Tomorrow,
Lower 48,
The Gories,
Dual Sessions,
the Human League,
Swans,
Kaleidoscope,
Kas Product,
Donny Hathaway,
Roxette,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Symarip,
Harry Pussy,
Spoonie Gee,
Skriet,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
U.S. Maple,
Alphaville,
Little Man,
JFA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Henry Cow,
Bad Manners,
Average White Band,
Lindisfarne,
Goldenarms,
John Coltrane,
Joy Division,
China Crisis,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.