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 Turkmenistan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Tears for Fears to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Intrusion,
Von Mondo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
CMW,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
The Techniques,
Terrestrial Tones,
Qualms,
The Cowsills,
Laurel Aitken,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
New Order,
Wasted Youth,
David McCallum,
Donald Byrd,
Radio Birdman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pulsallama,
Ken Boothe,
Chris Corsano,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Count Five,
The Martian,
Lungfish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Theoretical Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
the Bar-Kays,
Sarah Menescal,
Flash Fearless,
Kerri Chandler,
Johnny Osbourne,
Robert Wyatt,
Scrapy,
Agitation Free,
L. Decosne,
The Cramps,
Delta 5,
Swans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scientists,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Skaos,
Main Source,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Buckinghams,
Bauhaus,
Echospace,
Brick,
Pole,
Bluetip,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New York Dolls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane 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.