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 Grenada and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Crime,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gregory Isaacs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Depeche Mode,
Spandau Ballet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Underground Resistance,
The Slits,
Junior Murvin,
The Gladiators,
Nils Olav,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Skatalites,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Radio Birdman,
Lindisfarne,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Symarip,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
Susan Cadogan,
Drexciya,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Von Mondo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Duran Duran,
MC5,
Radiohead,
Harry Pussy,
The Golliwogs,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
The Smiths,
Zapp,
Bush Tetras,
Todd Rundgren,
Infiniti,
Erasure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Motorama,
Blossom Toes,
Jawbox,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pussy Galore,
The Wake,
D'Angelo,
Tears for Fears,
Kayak,
Gang Starr,
Lungfish,
Eurythmics,
Pere Ubu,
Alphaville,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.