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 Malawi and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Bang On A Can to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Ultravox,
Dawn Penn,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mission of Burma,
Duran Duran,
Dennis Brown,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Radiohead,
Alice Coltrane,
World's Most,
Sound Behaviour,
Nik Kershaw,
Marcia Griffiths,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalann,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Visage,
Essential Logic,
New Order,
The Real Kids,
Ronnie Foster,
Scratch Acid,
Oneida,
Stereo Dub,
Television,
The Mojo Men,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Motions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Los Fastidios,
The Associates,
a-ha,
Lakeside,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
The Litter,
June Days,
Wings,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kurtis Blow,
Negative Approach,
Quantec,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lindisfarne,
Charles Mingus,
Suicide,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Searchers,
The Toasters,
Minny Pops,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.