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 Nicaragua and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes 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 John Cale to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
H. Thieme,
Jesper Dahlback,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül II,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Unwound,
Pulsallama,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Invisible,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hashim,
Faraquet,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
A Certain Ratio,
Dark Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joy Division,
The Cramps,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective,
Don Cherry,
New Age Steppers,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry's Kids,
Second Layer,
Scratch Acid,
Crooked Eye,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drexciya,
Radiohead,
Circle Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Alphaville,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Saints,
Swans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Raincoats,
Skriet,
Shoche,
Susan Cadogan,
Maleditus Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Lindisfarne,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tommy Roe,
Fugazi,
Steve Hackett,
The Dave Clark Five,
Warren Ellis,
Quadrant,
Mr. Review,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lower 48,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.