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 Belize and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rap 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Chris Corsano,
Echospace,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Association,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dead Boys,
Oneida,
In Retrospect,
Dark Day,
Delta 5,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Duran Duran,
Darondo,
Youth Brigade,
Mandrill,
Vladislav Delay,
Roxy Music,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bronski Beat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Near,
The Birthday Party,
The Real Kids,
Cal Tjader,
Dorothy Ashby,
Animal Collective,
The Happenings,
Bluetip,
Dave Gahan,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Names,
Wolf Eyes,
Quando Quango,
Stiv Bators,
Amazonics,
Pagans,
Andrew Hill,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Monolake,
Bootsy Collins,
The Mummies,
Mars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Modern Lovers,
Mark Hollis,
The Skatalites,
Blossom Toes,
Gang Green,
Frankie Knuckles,
Colin Newman,
Arab on Radar,
Lucky Dragons,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
Althea and Donna,
Funky Four + One,
Fat Boys,
Von Mondo,
Urselle,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.