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 Cambodia and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Henry Cow,
The Count Five,
Schoolly D,
The Evens,
Freddie Wadling,
Can,
PIL,
Pantaleimon,
The Gories,
Magma,
Eddi Front,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Skaos,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Sixth Finger,
The Gladiators,
Don Cherry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Bananas,
Circle Jerks,
The Searchers,
Rosa Yemen,
Mission of Burma,
Rapeman,
Black Flag,
Adolescents,
Marine Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Robert Wyatt,
Minor Threat,
World's Most,
8 Eyed Spy,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Foxx,
Howard Jones,
Nick Fraelich,
Joy Division,
Wire,
Von Mondo,
The New Christs,
Mandrill,
Isaac Hayes,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
X-Ray Spex,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Danielle Patucci,
Derrick Morgan,
Hoover,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Index,
Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Swans,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.