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 Thailand and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the grime 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Hasil Adkins,
Pantytec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Mars,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Massinfluence,
the Swans,
Black Pus,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Misunderstood,
Scratch Acid,
D'Angelo,
Arab on Radar,
Symarip,
The Slits,
The United States of America,
B.T. Express,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eden Ahbez,
Michelle Simonal,
Smog,
PIL,
Sam Rivers,
Charles Mingus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camouflage,
Sound Behaviour,
Swell Maps,
The Searchers,
One Last Wish,
Ossler,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jacob Miller,
The Slackers,
Shuggie Otis,
Babytalk,
Desert Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Rosa Yemen,
Radio Birdman,
Pussy Galore,
a-ha,
Matthew Halsall,
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
Ohio Players,
Make Up,
Depeche Mode,
Vladislav Delay,
Ten City,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joey Negro,
John Holt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Porter Ricks,
Bronski Beat,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.