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 Seychelles and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Clear Light to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Arab on Radar,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Graham Central Station,
Soft Cell,
Roxette,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Drexciya,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Negative Approach,
Absolute Body Control,
Glambeats Corp.,
Liliput,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Gang Starr,
OOIOO,
the Sonics,
Thee Headcoats,
Dennis Brown,
Eric Dolphy,
Leonard Cohen,
Yusef Lateef,
The Selecter,
Scott Walker,
Dawn Penn,
Rufus Thomas,
Roxy Music,
Bluetip,
The Vogues,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ornette Coleman,
The Invisible,
Japan,
Soul II Soul,
Glenn Branca,
Rotary Connection,
Erasure,
Zero Boys,
Patti Smith,
Amazonics,
Isaac Hayes,
Neil Young,
Bronski Beat,
The Count Five,
The Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Boredoms,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The J.B.'s,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Litter,
Brothers Johnson,
Masters at Work,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
New Order,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Icehouse,
Popol Vuh,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.