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 Mozambique and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Guru Guru,
The Tremeloes,
Section 25,
Arab on Radar,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Con Funk Shun,
The Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Scientists,
The Fugs,
Altered Images,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barbara Tucker,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lindisfarne,
Wally Richardson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Motorama,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blossom Toes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joe Smooth,
Tears for Fears,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ituana,
Bob Dylan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lakeside,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Godley & Creme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Darondo,
Faust,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
A Certain Ratio,
Eddi Front,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Görl,
Reuben Wilson,
Aural Exciters,
Mr. Review,
The Buckinghams,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Fania All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Byron Stingily,
Make Up,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roxette,
Frankie Knuckles,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Connie Case,
Liliput,
The Mojo Men,
Deepchord,
Hardrive,
The Smiths,
World's Most,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.