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 Nicaragua and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Henry Cow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
The Music Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Gang Dance,
Inner City,
Ultimate Spinach,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Q and Not U,
Liliput,
Brick,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Subhumans,
Scientists,
Funkadelic,
Alphaville,
The Residents,
Buzzcocks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Black Dice,
UT,
The Seeds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Patti Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amon Düül II,
David Axelrod,
Marvin Gaye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
China Crisis,
Severed Heads,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sugar Minott,
Television,
Erasure,
John Holt,
Rekid,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Stooges,
Tommy Roe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Almond,
The Five Americans,
Monolake,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jacob Miller,
The Raincoats,
Bad Manners,
Pierre Henry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blossom Toes,
Stiv Bators,
Rosa Yemen,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Joensuu 1685,
Prince Buster,
Chris & Cosey,
Alison Limerick,
Al Stewart,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.