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 Slovenia and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Drive Like Jehu,
Inner City,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks,
Animal Collective,
Letta Mbulu,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
the Association,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Shadows of Knight,
PIL,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
Monolake,
The Raincoats,
Darondo,
Donald Byrd,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
KRS-One,
Ossler,
The Mojo Men,
Cymande,
The Skatalites,
Stockholm Monsters,
Average White Band,
Sex Pistols,
Pantaleimon,
The New Christs,
The Mummies,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deadbeat,
Essential Logic,
DJ Style,
Y Pants,
The Vogues,
Alton Ellis,
Sight & Sound,
Supertramp,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jerry's Kids,
Idris Muhammad,
Hoover,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Doors,
The Happenings,
OOIOO,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kayak,
Sister Nancy,
Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
Brass Construction,
Nico,
the Slits,
The Human League,
LL Cool J,
Skarface,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.