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 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 David Axelrod to the crunk 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Tommy Roe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Underground Resistance,
Excepter,
The Victims,
R.M.O.,
Angry Samoans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lakeside,
Freddie Wadling,
The Saints,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Godley & Creme,
Los Fastidios,
Pagans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faust,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
Au Pairs,
Ohio Players,
Grauzone,
Fear,
Johnny Clarke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alton Ellis,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Parrish,
Mantronix,
Goldenarms,
The Music Machine,
David Bowie,
Crime,
John Foxx,
Make Up,
Country Teasers,
Iggy Pop,
Henry Cow,
Television Personalities,
Roxy Music,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispy Ambulance,
World's Most,
Thee Headcoats,
Eden Ahbez,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Gun Club,
The Beau Brummels,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Young Rascals,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fall,
Anthony Braxton,
Quantec,
Silicon Teens,
Lalann,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.