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 Liberia and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare 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 Zapp to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Harry Pussy,
Tom Boy,
Tres Demented,
Roxette,
Byron Stingily,
Young Marble Giants,
Bill Near,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Maleditus Sound,
the Bar-Kays,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
Eurythmics,
Johnny Osbourne,
Con Funk Shun,
Ten City,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cheater Slicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cal Tjader,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Christie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Zapp,
Neu!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Todd Terry,
Rufus Thomas,
Yusef Lateef,
Harmonia,
The Fall,
John Lydon,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Vogues,
Newcleus,
The Moleskins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang of Four,
Sun City Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Nico,
The Remains,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hasil Adkins,
The Doors,
Lakeside,
Schoolly D,
Icehouse,
Fela Kuti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skaos,
The Beau Brummels,
Blossom Toes,
Graham Central Station,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.