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 Cyprus and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Leaves,
The Fire Engines,
Piero Umiliani,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
Scan 7,
The Zeros,
Yellowson,
The Dead C,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camouflage,
Quadrant,
Second Layer,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Japan,
Clear Light,
OOIOO,
the Slits,
AZ,
Joyce Sims,
Wings,
The Mummies,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lightning Bolt,
The Durutti Column,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Danielle Patucci,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Warren Ellis,
Wasted Youth,
Oblivians,
Roxette,
Cymande,
Rod Modell,
Gang of Four,
The Modern Lovers,
The Misunderstood,
Wire,
Eric Copeland,
DJ Style,
Ten City,
Nik Kershaw,
Delta 5,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Barracudas,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Machine,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Motions,
Leonard Cohen,
Whodini,
Ultravox,
Surgeon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stiv Bators,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.