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 Andorra and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Althea and Donna to the jazz 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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Rites of Spring,
Accadde A,
Bob Dylan,
Outsiders,
Lyres,
Mandrill,
Basic Channel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare,
The Beau Brummels,
Livin' Joy,
Warsaw,
Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Saints,
the Germs,
Rufus Thomas,
Oneida,
Jeff Lynne,
Morten Harket,
EPMD,
Danielle Patucci,
Youth Brigade,
Matthew Bourne,
a-ha,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alison Limerick,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
Sarah Menescal,
Swell Maps,
Grey Daturas,
Dark Day,
Deepchord,
Underground Resistance,
Newcleus,
Banda Bassotti,
Bush Tetras,
Erykah Badu,
Althea and Donna,
Mark Hollis,
Maleditus Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Darondo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moss Icon,
Nils Olav,
The Invisible,
Marvin Gaye,
Fatback Band,
The New Christs,
Nas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cabaret Voltaire,
8 Eyed Spy,
Whodini,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.