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 Montenegro and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Youth Brigade to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Boogie Down Productions,
Archie Shepp,
Echospace,
Jimmy McGriff,
Drexciya,
Soul II Soul,
Swell Maps,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marvin Gaye,
Lower 48,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smiths,
Donny Hathaway,
The Knickerbockers,
The Buckinghams,
The Human League,
Roxette,
Hoover,
the Normal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thompson Twins,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smoke,
Ultravox,
Marmalade,
The Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Kool Moe Dee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Victims,
Q and Not U,
Glenn Branca,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pulsallama,
Yusef Lateef,
Maleditus Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Busters,
These Immortal Souls,
The Happenings,
Livin' Joy,
Bad Manners,
Idris Muhammad,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mr. Review,
Sister Nancy,
Spandau Ballet,
Chris & Cosey,
Graham Central Station,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
Wire,
The Slackers,
UT,
David McCallum,
Nico,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Laurel Aitken,
Arthur Verocai,
Warsaw,
Animal Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.