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 Gabon and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ornette Coleman to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant 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?
Quando Quango,
Pantaleimon,
Banda Bassotti,
Eurythmics,
CMW,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dirtbombs,
Anakelly,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tubeway Army,
The Count Five,
Depeche Mode,
Sandy B,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Faust,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tres Demented,
D'Angelo,
The Leaves,
Intrusion,
T. Rex,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Section 25,
Bronski Beat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Robert Hood,
Gang Green,
Eve St. Jones,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Trojans,
Bill Near,
Patti Smith,
Los Fastidios,
MDC,
The Victims,
Eric Dolphy,
Soft Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Audionom,
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Rakim,
Deadbeat,
Joey Negro,
The Kinks,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fortunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Normal,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
World's Most,
Oblivians,
Nico,
Charles Mingus,
Echospace,
Goldenarms,
Flamin' Groovies,
Excepter,
Ultra Naté,
The Searchers,
Howard Jones,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.