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 Latvia and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the jazz 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Lyres,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlback,
Agent Orange,
Sound Behaviour,
the Slits,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Busters,
Cameo,
Neu!,
Sun City Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Public Enemy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hot Snakes,
The Pretty Things,
Scrapy,
Freddie Wadling,
Eurythmics,
Goldenarms,
Tom Boy,
John Foxx,
X-102,
Lower 48,
Kas Product,
Alphaville,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Velvet Underground,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tres Demented,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Circle Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
Todd Rundgren,
Colin Newman,
Suicide,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Prince Buster,
Marmalade,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camouflage,
Joyce Sims,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
Joensuu 1685,
Gil Scott Heron,
F. McDonald,
Trumans Water,
Second Layer,
Peter & Gordon,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.