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 Bahrain and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantaleimon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cure,
The Moleskins,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Reuben Wilson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brass Construction,
Idris Muhammad,
Blake Baxter,
Byron Stingily,
The Young Rascals,
Aswad,
The Real Kids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
MC5,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Gang Starr,
48th St. Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Spoonie Gee,
The Motions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Freddie Wadling,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Eden Ahbez,
Sister Nancy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Amon Düül,
Barclay James Harvest,
DNA,
Bang On A Can,
Dave Gahan,
MDC,
Funkadelic,
Black Bananas,
The Victims,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rekid,
H. Thieme,
Reagan Youth,
Duran Duran,
Franke,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Metal Thangz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Echospace,
Andrew Hill,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.