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 Georgia and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Funky Four + One to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mr. Review,
Youth Brigade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donny Hathaway,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Human League,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Heaven 17,
The Fall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rotary Connection,
Angry Samoans,
Black Flag,
Delta 5,
John Holt,
Television Personalities,
Dave Gahan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Hutcherson,
cv313,
The Golliwogs,
Dual Sessions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Television,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lower 48,
Idris Muhammad,
Interpol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blancmange,
Alice Coltrane,
Shoche,
Surgeon,
DJ Style,
Bill Wells,
Crooked Eye,
Second Layer,
Sandy B,
Zapp,
Dead Boys,
The Knickerbockers,
Pussy Galore,
Al Stewart,
Ohio Players,
The Birthday Party,
The Sound,
The Vogues,
Albert Ayler,
Pulsallama,
John Foxx,
the Bar-Kays,
Carl Craig,
Depeche Mode,
Patti Smith,
Monolake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.