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 Ivory Coast and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Agitation Free to the dance 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Parry Music,
Altered Images,
Young Marble Giants,
Cluster,
The Residents,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mantronix,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harry Pussy,
the Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gladiators,
Ralphi Rosario,
Roxette,
Todd Rundgren,
Steve Hackett,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
The Skatalites,
Newcleus,
Stetsasonic,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
Television,
Duran Duran,
Black Moon,
Bill Near,
Ice-T,
Symarip,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick May,
AZ,
Amazonics,
Ronnie Foster,
Reuben Wilson,
CMW,
Kenny Larkin,
Mars,
Sparks,
X-101,
X-102,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Flesh Eaters,
Faust,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Monolake,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kaleidoscope,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scratch Acid,
Silicon Teens,
Donny Hathaway,
Spoonie Gee,
Joy Division,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.