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 Philippines and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Spokane.
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 Donald Fagen 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 Sixth Finger to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Lyres,
Derrick May,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sugar Minott,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
LL Cool J,
Whodini,
Hoover,
Flipper,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
David Axelrod,
Tears for Fears,
Panda Bear,
Crooked Eye,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jacques Brel,
Brothers Johnson,
Warsaw,
The Misunderstood,
Kaleidoscope,
Amazonics,
Simply Red,
Hashim,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Saints,
The Wake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Josef K,
Silicon Teens,
Ultravox,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
Monks,
Guru Guru,
Faraquet,
The Neon Judgement,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joe Finger,
Pussy Galore,
The Raincoats,
Colin Newman,
OOIOO,
The Red Krayola,
Jacob Miller,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Metal Thangz,
Eve St. Jones,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.