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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 OOIOO to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Morten Harket,
Slave,
Ken Boothe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
cv313,
The Smoke,
Kerri Chandler,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bronski Beat,
One Last Wish,
The Happenings,
Dual Sessions,
Malaria!,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Inner City,
Cal Tjader,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dave Gahan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mandrill,
Lower 48,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ten City,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Ponytail,
New Age Steppers,
The Star Department,
JFA,
Infiniti,
Scan 7,
The Offenders,
The Cramps,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fugs,
Cameo,
Reuben Wilson,
Brand Nubian,
Slick Rick,
Rod Modell,
The Leaves,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gichy Dan,
Mark Hollis,
Hot Snakes,
Alton Ellis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mo-Dettes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Khruangbin,
Alice Coltrane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Davy DMX,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.