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 Zimbabwe and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 The Evens to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
T.S.O.L.,
Absolute Body Control,
Dave Gahan,
PIL,
Alice Coltrane,
Isaac Hayes,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sällskapet,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Kinks,
Mars,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Hood,
Amon Düül,
The Modern Lovers,
Mission of Burma,
Blake Baxter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Prunes,
Brass Construction,
Oneida,
Eddi Front,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Fraelich,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Index,
Nas,
The Misunderstood,
The Blackbyrds,
Dark Day,
The Associates,
Nils Olav,
Siglo XX,
Cybotron,
Terry Callier,
Tears for Fears,
Parry Music,
Yazoo,
Average White Band,
The Sound,
Blancmange,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rekid,
Bill Wells,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare,
Don Cherry,
The Five Americans,
Piero Umiliani,
H. Thieme,
the Soft Cell,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.