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 Philippines and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Matthew Halsall to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ponytail,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Carl Craig,
Masters at Work,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Busters,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Bush Tetras,
Man Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scrapy,
Hot Snakes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ronan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Michelle Simonal,
Main Source,
Lyres,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sight & Sound,
Scan 7,
Simply Red,
The Moody Blues,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nils Olav,
The Gun Club,
David Axelrod,
The Star Department,
Urselle,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
Skriet,
Donny Hathaway,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Smiths,
Radiohead,
Saccharine Trust,
Drexciya,
The Kinks,
Jandek,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moss Icon,
Soul II Soul,
Skarface,
The Vogues,
The Gap Band,
Rod Modell,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Toni Rubio,
Thompson Twins,
Eli Mardock,
Rapeman,
X-101,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.