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 Japan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Cale,
Jawbox,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
Country Teasers,
The Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rites of Spring,
Bronski Beat,
Sällskapet,
Man Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Au Pairs,
L. Decosne,
Cybotron,
Cecil Taylor,
Darondo,
The Barracudas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Average White Band,
Dead Boys,
Japan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
The Birthday Party,
The Martian,
Dark Day,
The Searchers,
Alphaville,
Ronnie Foster,
Isaac Hayes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lakeside,
Nirvana,
Joe Finger,
T.S.O.L.,
Gabor Szabo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Banda Bassotti,
The Vogues,
The Smiths,
Sound Behaviour,
Michelle Simonal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ice-T,
Blossom Toes,
Desert Stars,
Malaria!,
Skarface,
Scrapy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter & Gordon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.