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 Luxembourg and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Marc Almond to the grunge 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Angels of Light,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Donald Byrd,
Boogie Down Productions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
MDC,
Pole,
Todd Rundgren,
Panda Bear,
Lungfish,
David McCallum,
Robert Wyatt,
Marc Almond,
Bill Wells,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Swans,
DNA,
Quantec,
Pierre Henry,
June Days,
F. McDonald,
AZ,
PIL,
China Crisis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Moleskins,
Little Man,
Girls At Our Best!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Slick Rick,
Aaron Thompson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aswad,
Gerry Rafferty,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Prince Buster,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra,
Goldenarms,
Al Stewart,
Hoover,
Spoonie Gee,
Subhumans,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Görl,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roxy Music,
The Offenders,
Smog,
Groovy Waters,
Suburban Knight,
The Fall,
EPMD,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.