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 Italy and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gories to the grime 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Howard Jones,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Byron Stingily,
World's Most,
The Remains,
The Golliwogs,
L. Decosne,
Reagan Youth,
Symarip,
Marmalade,
New York Dolls,
The Index,
The Dirtbombs,
The Searchers,
T.S.O.L.,
Kayak,
Basic Channel,
Pagans,
Ken Boothe,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
Marvin Gaye,
The Standells,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pole,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Vogues,
Heaven 17,
Harmonia,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moebius,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Wells,
Gang Starr,
Minnie Riperton,
Joey Negro,
the Soft Cell,
The Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Lalann,
The Evens,
Swell Maps,
The Modern Lovers,
The Martian,
Dead Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Coltrane,
Lungfish,
Loose Ends,
Delta 5,
Pierre Henry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Iggy Pop,
Black Bananas,
Rhythm & Sound,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.