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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 Dead Boys to the funk 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
The Barracudas,
In Retrospect,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Index,
Camberwell Now,
Hashim,
Sister Nancy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Motions,
Cameo,
The Cramps,
Icehouse,
Cymande,
Theoretical Girls,
Josef K,
The Offenders,
The Blues Magoos,
Sugar Minott,
Colin Newman,
Can,
Grauzone,
Fad Gadget,
Los Fastidios,
Basic Channel,
Ituana,
Bizarre Inc.,
Charles Mingus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
E-Dancer,
Sun City Girls,
Henry Cow,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Johnny Clarke,
the Slits,
Lou Christie,
Ronnie Foster,
Smog,
Eurythmics,
Scott Walker,
Glenn Branca,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Zapp,
Quando Quango,
Moss Icon,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Moon,
Robert Wyatt,
Youth Brigade,
the Swans,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rotary Connection,
New York Dolls,
Skriet,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.