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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grime 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
The Skatalites,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tears for Fears,
Nirvana,
Kaleidoscope,
Inner City,
Nas,
Drive Like Jehu,
The American Breed,
K-Klass,
Absolute Body Control,
Whodini,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed,
Yaz,
The Doors,
The Standells,
Adolescents,
Echospace,
Deadbeat,
Sun Ra,
cv313,
Basic Channel,
The Electric Prunes,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
Eve St. Jones,
Kas Product,
Bobby Sherman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camouflage,
Ten City,
Interpol,
MC5,
Hashim,
The Martian,
Mark Hollis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Model 500,
The Red Krayola,
Carl Craig,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Goldenarms,
Cecil Taylor,
Ronnie Foster,
Procol Harum,
Roger Hodgson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Drexciya,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chrome,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marine Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Clear Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boredoms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kayak,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.