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 Tonga and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar 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 DJ Style to the grunge 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
The Leaves,
Boz Scaggs,
Scratch Acid,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Accadde A,
Terry Callier,
Magazine,
Ultravox,
The Modern Lovers,
Camberwell Now,
The Names,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Hashim,
Shuggie Otis,
Barrington Levy,
Moebius,
Crash Course in Science,
Bang On A Can,
Deadbeat,
JFA,
Marvin Gaye,
Donald Byrd,
Bluetip,
The Seeds,
The J.B.'s,
Minny Pops,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Quando Quango,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mars,
Girls At Our Best!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television,
Unrelated Segments,
Albert Ayler,
Bootsy Collins,
Country Teasers,
This Heat,
Connie Case,
Colin Newman,
Blake Baxter,
Marshall Jefferson,
Echospace,
DJ Style,
Stiv Bators,
Iggy Pop,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fire Engines,
MC5,
Sparks,
Charles Mingus,
Pantaleimon,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.