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 Zambia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Amazonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Howard Jones,
The Cramps,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
Fad Gadget,
The American Breed,
The New Christs,
Procol Harum,
DJ Style,
The Litter,
Barbara Tucker,
Tom Boy,
Dave Gahan,
The Martian,
Aural Exciters,
Subhumans,
Rufus Thomas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Flash Fearless,
Deakin,
the Normal,
Nick Fraelich,
Warren Ellis,
The Fire Engines,
The Count Five,
Connie Case,
Organ,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New York Dolls,
MDC,
The Real Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Ronan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Letta Mbulu,
Wasted Youth,
Icehouse,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Monochrome Set,
F. McDonald,
The Slackers,
Silicon Teens,
Alice Coltrane,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultra Naté,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lower 48,
Josef K,
Arab on Radar,
48th St. Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Yaz,
Dark Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Curtis Mayfield,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.