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 Samoa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Maleditus Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Severed Heads,
Stiv Bators,
Radiopuhelimet,
Arcadia,
Scion,
Crooked Eye,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Five Americans,
June Days,
Warsaw,
Crash Course in Science,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Human League,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Selecter,
Popol Vuh,
The Gun Club,
Liliput,
Henry Cow,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
The Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
Quadrant,
Los Fastidios,
This Heat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grey Daturas,
Harmonia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Skriet,
Carl Craig,
Arab on Radar,
Dead Boys,
Hardrive,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Simply Red,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Pretty Things,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wire,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra,
The Searchers,
Erykah Badu,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Clear Light,
Kayak,
Scott Walker,
The American Breed,
Nation of Ulysses,
Darondo,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.