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 Burkina and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ronnie Foster to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Procol Harum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scientists,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gories,
Harmonia,
Supertramp,
Khruangbin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nick Fraelich,
Suburban Knight,
Kerri Chandler,
John Foxx,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eden Ahbez,
Drexciya,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Loose Ends,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Warren Ellis,
Donny Hathaway,
Camberwell Now,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Subhumans,
AZ,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
cv313,
Marine Girls,
Davy DMX,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Martian,
The Sonics,
James White and The Blacks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fuzztones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alphaville,
Boz Scaggs,
The Victims,
Bronski Beat,
The Smiths,
The Black Dice,
Newcleus,
The Velvet Underground,
Popol Vuh,
Excepter,
Hashim,
Marshall Jefferson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thompson Twins,
The Grass Roots,
The Mojo Men,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.