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 Yemen and from Lille.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Q and Not U to the dance 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Goldenarms,
Iggy Pop,
Altered Images,
Cheater Slicks,
Masters at Work,
The Smiths,
The Walker Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
Khruangbin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stiv Bators,
Reagan Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doobie Brothers,
Morten Harket,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rites of Spring,
Ossler,
Charles Mingus,
Tim Buckley,
The Fall,
Ice-T,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Knickerbockers,
Duran Duran,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
the Association,
Youth Brigade,
Minnie Riperton,
the Swans,
Lungfish,
Excepter,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Count Five,
Juan Atkins,
Maurizio,
The Red Krayola,
The Index,
Mr. Review,
Bauhaus,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Deepchord,
Con Funk Shun,
Swell Maps,
The Doors,
Basic Channel,
Erasure,
Soulsonic Force,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.