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 Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Harmonia,
Ronnie Foster,
Rites of Spring,
Idris Muhammad,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Von Mondo,
Half Japanese,
Livin' Joy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Piero Umiliani,
Lower 48,
Althea and Donna,
The Misunderstood,
Mr. Review,
Buzzcocks,
The Litter,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry,
Nils Olav,
Barry Ungar,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blossom Toes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Technova,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Khruangbin,
Aloha Tigers,
The Martian,
Visage,
Interpol,
Guru Guru,
Crispy Ambulance,
Michelle Simonal,
The Techniques,
The Happenings,
Saccharine Trust,
The New Christs,
Pole,
Camberwell Now,
Donny Hathaway,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
Joyce Sims,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
The Selecter,
Shuggie Otis,
The United States of America,
Erasure,
Sparks,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic,
Rosa Yemen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.