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 Iraq and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 MC5 to the techno 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Holt,
Cecil Taylor,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-102,
Radio Birdman,
Cal Tjader,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
The Pop Group,
The Young Rascals,
Bluetip,
Das Ding,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Steve Hackett,
Skarface,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mars,
The Smoke,
The Index,
EPMD,
Arthur Verocai,
Ornette Coleman,
Lebanon Hanover,
OOIOO,
Susan Cadogan,
A Certain Ratio,
Tom Boy,
The Cowsills,
Connie Case,
Panda Bear,
Black Moon,
Barbara Tucker,
Excepter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick Morgan,
The Cure,
Quantec,
Rufus Thomas,
Carl Craig,
Brass Construction,
Fear,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grauzone,
The Names,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Byrd,
Minny Pops,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Absolute Body Control,
Adolescents,
the Normal,
Moby Grape,
X-101,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.