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 Fiji and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Surgeon to the dance 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Quando Quango,
The Fuzztones,
Charles Mingus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cameo,
Mars,
Cybotron,
Brand Nubian,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chrome,
Tomorrow,
John Lydon,
cv313,
Avey Tare,
Drexciya,
The Modern Lovers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
48th St. Collective,
Bizarre Inc.,
Surgeon,
The Martian,
OOIOO,
Eric Copeland,
The Pretty Things,
Mr. Review,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
The Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Depeche Mode,
Qualms,
Ohio Players,
New Age Steppers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dual Sessions,
The Saints,
The Mummies,
Barclay James Harvest,
Agent Orange,
Angry Samoans,
Camberwell Now,
The Durutti Column,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flipper,
Ultra Naté,
Jacob Miller,
Intrusion,
Technova,
Mark Hollis,
Roxy Music,
The Names,
Supertramp,
Bush Tetras,
The Selecter,
Groovy Waters,
Maurizio,
Sonny Sharrock,
Glenn Branca,
D'Angelo,
Sister Nancy,
The Moleskins,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.