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 Antigua and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Q65,
Fluxion,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed,
Patti Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Popol Vuh,
Black Pus,
Zapp,
Inner City,
The Divine Comedy,
These Immortal Souls,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gladiators,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
Second Layer,
Iggy Pop,
The Buckinghams,
Prince Buster,
Kenny Larkin,
Kas Product,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
LL Cool J,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Smog,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Coltrane,
Lower 48,
X-101,
Massinfluence,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minny Pops,
The Sonics,
The Dead C,
Simply Red,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Minutemen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Blues Magoos,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Green,
Magazine,
Rosa Yemen,
Siglo XX,
Kaleidoscope,
Ossler,
Wire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Flag,
The United States of America,
Yazoo,
Tears for Fears,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.