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 South Africa and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Mojo Men,
Tom Boy,
Altered Images,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barclay James Harvest,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
Basic Channel,
Model 500,
Half Japanese,
Brass Construction,
Depeche Mode,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sun City Girls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Throbbing Gristle,
D'Angelo,
Wings,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
cv313,
Flash Fearless,
Spoonie Gee,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Barracudas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Monolake,
Zero Boys,
The Real Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
The Motions,
Ice-T,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fuzztones,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Dolphy,
Rakim,
Tears for Fears,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cecil Taylor,
Main Source,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
EPMD,
Steve Hackett,
Can,
The Smoke,
Niagra,
Drexciya,
Alphaville,
Amon Düül,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Byrd,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.