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 Cuba and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the techno 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Lakeside,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Copeland,
Duran Duran,
Interpol,
Procol Harum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
UT,
Liliput,
Black Moon,
Angry Samoans,
The Litter,
Donny Hathaway,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ten City,
Marvin Gaye,
the Bar-Kays,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hardrive,
Andrew Hill,
Kool Moe Dee,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Basic Channel,
Kas Product,
Popol Vuh,
Mad Mike,
Alison Limerick,
The Dirtbombs,
Shuggie Otis,
Cybotron,
The Fugs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Alice Coltrane,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cramps,
Camouflage,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gladiators,
Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
Pharoah Sanders,
Boredoms,
DJ Style,
Intrusion,
the Swans,
kango's stein massive,
Delta 5,
The Blackbyrds,
The Victims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Donald Byrd,
Scientists,
Alphaville,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.