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 Zimbabwe and from Philadelphia.
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 Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Warsaw to the rock 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
Cheater Slicks,
The Victims,
Japan,
The Residents,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Supertramp,
Newcleus,
Gang Green,
Funkadelic,
Underground Resistance,
DNA,
Can,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pylon,
Popol Vuh,
Brass Construction,
The Raincoats,
Y Pants,
H. Thieme,
Camouflage,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Lindisfarne,
Mantronix,
Basic Channel,
The Barracudas,
Zero Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echospace,
David McCallum,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roxy Music,
Anakelly,
Pagans,
Wolf Eyes,
Malaria!,
The Blackbyrds,
World's Most,
The Count Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Flipper,
The J.B.'s,
The Moleskins,
The Smoke,
Soft Machine,
Gang of Four,
MDC,
Robert Hood,
Yaz,
Liliput,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Chris & Cosey,
Lalo Schifrin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.