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 Sierra Leone and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ronnie Foster to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith 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?
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tears for Fears,
Ludus,
Archie Shepp,
Minor Threat,
Nick Fraelich,
The Modern Lovers,
Marmalade,
Harmonia,
Mr. Review,
Icehouse,
Sister Nancy,
B.T. Express,
ABBA,
Roxy Music,
X-Ray Spex,
Malaria!,
PIL,
Lou Christie,
Tom Boy,
Faraquet,
Wings,
Drexciya,
The Dead C,
Altered Images,
The Five Americans,
The American Breed,
Stiv Bators,
Niagra,
Suicide,
Bauhaus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Section 25,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
Grey Daturas,
Ohio Players,
Interpol,
The Saints,
Banda Bassotti,
Marvin Gaye,
Q65,
Nik Kershaw,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy Collins,
Soft Machine,
Stereo Dub,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moby Grape,
Jeff Lynne,
Pierre Henry,
Matthew Bourne,
Deakin,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
Q and Not U,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.