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 Ghana and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 Joey Negro to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
PIL,
Pussy Galore,
Lebanon Hanover,
Janne Schatter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang On A Can,
Smog,
Gastr Del Sol,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cure,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
New Age Steppers,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brothers Johnson,
Charles Mingus,
Alison Limerick,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ituana,
Roy Ayers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Names,
Dark Day,
Skarface,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fad Gadget,
Interpol,
Dead Boys,
New Order,
Danielle Patucci,
La Düsseldorf,
Mo-Dettes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sight & Sound,
The Stooges,
The Angels of Light,
Letta Mbulu,
Nico,
Albert Ayler,
U.S. Maple,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Motions,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maleditus Sound,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roxette,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Birthday Party,
The Walker Brothers,
Lyres,
Johnny Clarke,
Chrome,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.