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 Bangladesh and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jacques Brel to the punk 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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Seeds,
Maleditus Sound,
The Names,
Morten Harket,
Stereo Dub,
Stiv Bators,
Carl Craig,
Kas Product,
Interpol,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed,
Fela Kuti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roxy Music,
Popol Vuh,
Electric Prunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
the Sonics,
X-102,
Essential Logic,
Eric Dolphy,
Wolf Eyes,
T. Rex,
Curtis Mayfield,
Clear Light,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Peter & Gordon,
The Tremeloes,
Duran Duran,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moby Grape,
Anthony Braxton,
Moebius,
Joe Finger,
Cecil Taylor,
The Toasters,
Marshall Jefferson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Kinks,
Tres Demented,
Oblivians,
Thompson Twins,
These Immortal Souls,
Soft Machine,
Joe Smooth,
Whodini,
Wings,
Glambeats Corp.,
H. Thieme,
Letta Mbulu,
Bang On A Can,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.