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 Brazil and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Underground Resistance to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Pulsallama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pylon,
Accadde A,
Surgeon,
Pussy Galore,
Scion,
Susan Cadogan,
B.T. Express,
Ten City,
Nik Kershaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
cv313,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Little Man,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Visage,
Hardrive,
Bauhaus,
The Selecter,
Jawbox,
Lightning Bolt,
Duran Duran,
Hashim,
Pole,
Heaven 17,
Bluetip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Tremeloes,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott Heron,
The J.B.'s,
Rapeman,
Simply Red,
Flash Fearless,
Davy DMX,
Lee Hazlewood,
H. Thieme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crash Course in Science,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mad Mike,
Black Moon,
Niagra,
Oneida,
Chrome,
Warren Ellis,
Hoover,
Soft Cell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
K-Klass,
Shuggie Otis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Depeche Mode,
Underground Resistance,
Arcadia,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magma,
The Real Kids,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.