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 Tonga and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New Age Steppers to the crunk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Parry Music,
Urselle,
Ludus,
Ultra Naté,
Wings,
David Bowie,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pussy Galore,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scion,
Visage,
Make Up,
The Mummies,
Blossom Toes,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gap Band,
Loose Ends,
Aaron Thompson,
Fad Gadget,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mars,
Underground Resistance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mission of Burma,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moss Icon,
Can,
LL Cool J,
Mr. Review,
Sun Ra,
The Gun Club,
Jacob Miller,
Alison Limerick,
Alphaville,
Faust,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Franke,
Little Man,
David Axelrod,
Yusef Lateef,
The Last Poets,
Monolake,
Robert Wyatt,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Harry Pussy,
Eden Ahbez,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kenny Larkin,
Eurythmics,
John Holt,
Tubeway Army,
Liliput,
New Age Steppers,
Wally Richardson,
Banda Bassotti,
Dave Gahan,
Television,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.