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 East Timor and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Minnie Riperton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
The Knickerbockers,
Kayak,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sugar Minott,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arthur Verocai,
Skaos,
Absolute Body Control,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hot Snakes,
E-Dancer,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Shuggie Otis,
Angry Samoans,
the Sonics,
Siglo XX,
EPMD,
Joe Finger,
Graham Central Station,
Make Up,
Inner City,
Jimmy McGriff,
Wire,
Porter Ricks,
Visage,
Ornette Coleman,
Sight & Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Nas,
Oblivians,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
Ten City,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Qualms,
Jeff Lynne,
The Doors,
Jacob Miller,
H. Thieme,
Mission of Burma,
Fear,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Erasure,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Busters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Byron Stingily,
Quantec,
Index,
The Motions,
Interpol,
Johnny Osbourne,
Josef K,
Gong,
Lower 48,
Half Japanese,
Chrome,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.