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 Dominica and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Blues Magoos to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
B.T. Express,
The Cowsills,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bauhaus,
Shoche,
Archie Shepp,
China Crisis,
Wings,
Eric Dolphy,
Ice-T,
The Durutti Column,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Toni Rubio,
Thee Headcoats,
Wire,
Sandy B,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blossom Toes,
Yazoo,
Pantaleimon,
Scrapy,
Fear,
Chris Corsano,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Music Machine,
Dennis Brown,
Hasil Adkins,
Second Layer,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barbara Tucker,
Kas Product,
Scratch Acid,
Sixth Finger,
Ten City,
Magazine,
Chris & Cosey,
Marcia Griffiths,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ohio Players,
Angry Samoans,
Main Source,
Glenn Branca,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eve St. Jones,
Sister Nancy,
Deepchord,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-102,
Roy Ayers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
CMW,
the Swans,
Wasted Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.