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 Liechtenstein and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ossler to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
The Birthday Party,
Urselle,
Max Romeo,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
Rufus Thomas,
Lalann,
Kenny Larkin,
Alphaville,
Agent Orange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ultra Naté,
Accadde A,
Yazoo,
JFA,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Don Cherry,
Erasure,
Al Stewart,
Ice-T,
Lower 48,
Massinfluence,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Talk Talk,
Gang Starr,
The Offenders,
The Kinks,
The Sound,
Bill Near,
Fatback Band,
Stereo Dub,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fad Gadget,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deakin,
Erykah Badu,
Animal Collective,
Pierre Henry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Juan Atkins,
Cameo,
Duran Duran,
Niagra,
Brass Construction,
The Walker Brothers,
Au Pairs,
F. McDonald,
Dennis Brown,
Joe Finger,
Model 500,
Oblivians,
Bootsy Collins,
Altered Images,
Prince Buster,
Ponytail,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.