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 Eritrea and from New York.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 marimba 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 Gregory Isaacs to the grunge 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Altered Images,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
The Fuzztones,
Charles Mingus,
Alison Limerick,
Audionom,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pussy Galore,
Black Pus,
Darondo,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Fania All-Stars,
The American Breed,
Soulsonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gories,
New Order,
Faraquet,
Bluetip,
Hasil Adkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pole,
Pet Shop Boys,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
Mandrill,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Steve Hackett,
T.S.O.L.,
Rites of Spring,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cal Tjader,
Guru Guru,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pantaleimon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Al Stewart,
World's Most,
Quadrant,
Lungfish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Foxx,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moss Icon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
Khruangbin,
Supertramp,
The Buckinghams,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Minny Pops,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.