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 Finland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Monochrome Set,
Dark Day,
The Names,
The Move,
The Dead C,
Minutemen,
Sister Nancy,
Mr. Review,
Gang Starr,
Gabor Szabo,
June of 44,
Shuggie Otis,
The Wake,
Amazonics,
Drexciya,
Hot Snakes,
Roxette,
Motorama,
Faraquet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Associates,
John Lydon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Music Machine,
The Electric Prunes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joe Finger,
Gong,
Flamin' Groovies,
Slave,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Birthday Party,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bluetip,
Gregory Isaacs,
Camouflage,
Japan,
Erasure,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Silicon Teens,
Country Teasers,
Black Moon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Subhumans,
Masters at Work,
Howard Jones,
Icehouse,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nik Kershaw,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
Con Funk Shun,
Camberwell Now,
The Gories,
Godley & Creme,
Adolescents,
Mark Hollis,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.