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 the UAE and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Michelle Simonal to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The American Breed,
Metal Thangz,
cv313,
Duran Duran,
Scott Walker,
Joey Negro,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Sheep,
Pylon,
Schoolly D,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jawbox,
Bill Wells,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Das Ding,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxy Music,
Ten City,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
Roger Hodgson,
The Busters,
The Knickerbockers,
The Walker Brothers,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonic Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Hood,
Yellowson,
Deepchord,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
June of 44,
Rufus Thomas,
Lucky Dragons,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aloha Tigers,
Accadde A,
Stereo Dub,
Crime,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mojo Men,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fortunes,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Cell,
The Mummies,
The Sonics,
Anakelly,
The Stooges,
Deadbeat,
X-Ray Spex,
The Real Kids,
The United States of America,
World's Most,
Monolake,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.