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 Netherlands and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Sao Paulo.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Average White Band to the disco 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Gang of Four,
Newcleus,
Groovy Waters,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nick Fraelich,
Sex Pistols,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Television,
The Human League,
CMW,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
Todd Terry,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swell Maps,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alison Limerick,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Guru Guru,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marc Almond,
Joe Finger,
DJ Style,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New York Dolls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
Fatback Band,
The Raincoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
Anakelly,
Howard Jones,
Bang On A Can,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Shadows of Knight,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
E-Dancer,
Todd Rundgren,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kayak,
Erykah Badu,
The Tremeloes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gladiators,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Pop Group,
The Smoke,
June of 44,
Heaven 17,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.