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 Korea North and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Warsaw,
Trumans Water,
Marshall Jefferson,
X-102,
Royal Trux,
Yazoo,
AZ,
Brass Construction,
Sugar Minott,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Curtis Mayfield,
kango's stein massive,
Maurizio,
The Doors,
Slick Rick,
The Victims,
Al Stewart,
Heaven 17,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Michelle Simonal,
Lower 48,
Make Up,
The Residents,
OOIOO,
Marcia Griffiths,
Massinfluence,
Jacques Brel,
Swell Maps,
Fat Boys,
Supertramp,
The Knickerbockers,
Basic Channel,
Derrick May,
Sound Behaviour,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cecil Taylor,
Marvin Gaye,
Girls At Our Best!,
L. Decosne,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Association,
Hot Snakes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Panda Bear,
Sixth Finger,
Unwound,
The Toasters,
The Techniques,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Green,
Main Source,
Radio Birdman,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.