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 Papua New Guinea and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wolf Eyes to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
The Pretty Things,
The Wake,
Animal Collective,
Yusef Lateef,
John Lydon,
Maurizio,
Nick Fraelich,
Whodini,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül,
Frankie Knuckles,
Royal Trux,
Malaria!,
The Saints,
Soulsonic Force,
The Monks,
The Busters,
The Count Five,
Tears for Fears,
The Buckinghams,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jandek,
The Durutti Column,
Chris Corsano,
Cal Tjader,
Kerri Chandler,
R.M.O.,
In Retrospect,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ronan,
Josef K,
The Blues Magoos,
Slick Rick,
The J.B.'s,
Quantec,
The Sonics,
OOIOO,
John Holt,
The United States of America,
the Bar-Kays,
ABC,
Dead Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gories,
Banda Bassotti,
The Moody Blues,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marine Girls,
La Düsseldorf,
the Normal,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Charles Mingus,
The Zeros,
Rotary Connection,
Mantronix,
Fatback Band,
The Selecter,
Rekid,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.