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 Bangladesh 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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Knickerbockers,
L. Decosne,
Scott Walker,
Skaos,
the Normal,
Underground Resistance,
Amon Düül,
Eve St. Jones,
The Velvet Underground,
Suburban Knight,
The Durutti Column,
The Red Krayola,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Sherman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cecil Taylor,
Minutemen,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Malaria!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare,
The Cramps,
Blancmange,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nils Olav,
Freddie Wadling,
Eurythmics,
The Kinks,
Suicide,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vainqueur,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultravox,
Altered Images,
Blake Baxter,
Robert Wyatt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Neu!,
Scratch Acid,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Barracudas,
FM Einheit,
Kurtis Blow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rites of Spring,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lou Reed,
Brass Construction,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABBA,
Soul II Soul,
Nick Fraelich,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.