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 Thailand and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 The Durutti Column to the electroclash 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Modern Lovers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nas,
Amon Düül II,
Clear Light,
Jacob Miller,
T.S.O.L.,
Blake Baxter,
James White and The Blacks,
Lyres,
The Martian,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tubeway Army,
Whodini,
The Blues Magoos,
Terry Callier,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grey Daturas,
Arthur Verocai,
the Slits,
One Last Wish,
Half Japanese,
Robert Wyatt,
Radio Birdman,
Mary Jane Girls,
Smog,
Sparks,
Bauhaus,
Wasted Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Heaven 17,
Scrapy,
Stiv Bators,
Camberwell Now,
Tropical Tobacco,
Underground Resistance,
The Slackers,
Simply Red,
Rufus Thomas,
Suicide,
The Trojans,
Gang Starr,
Godley & Creme,
Mission of Burma,
Andrew Hill,
Don Cherry,
Monks,
Moby Grape,
Gang Green,
Roy Ayers,
John Lydon,
Cymande,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Residents,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Swans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lou Reed,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.