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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the 808 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 Cheater Slicks to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin 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 funk 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 marimba and an oboe 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 oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Cale,
Tomorrow,
Ten City,
Dark Day,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Techniques,
Donald Byrd,
The Moleskins,
Slave,
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
Kayak,
Alphaville,
Marine Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Mr. Review,
Fugazi,
the Swans,
KRS-One,
Camouflage,
Don Cherry,
Buzzcocks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Selecter,
MDC,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
Index,
Inner City,
Bush Tetras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Near,
Clear Light,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
Das Ding,
The Monochrome Set,
Amon Düül,
The Busters,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jandek,
Bobby Womack,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pussy Galore,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quando Quango,
Model 500,
Spandau Ballet,
Intrusion,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris & Cosey,
Fat Boys,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.