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 Nauru and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Accadde A to the disco 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie 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?
Nik Kershaw,
Lungfish,
Thompson Twins,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
Q and Not U,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Smoke,
Das Ding,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang of Four,
Infiniti,
Bobby Womack,
Deepchord,
Sam Rivers,
Eve St. Jones,
Roxette,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Vainqueur,
Judy Mowatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joy Division,
The Stooges,
Rotary Connection,
Monks,
Simply Red,
John Holt,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers,
Delta 5,
Porter Ricks,
Bizarre Inc.,
James White and The Blacks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marmalade,
The Associates,
Arcadia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ituana,
Nils Olav,
Panda Bear,
Chris & Cosey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
The Remains,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
The Zeros,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Barracudas,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.