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 United States and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Barracudas to the disco 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Hood,
Donny Hathaway,
Judy Mowatt,
Joy Division,
Harry Pussy,
The Blackbyrds,
Pussy Galore,
Eurythmics,
The Music Machine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dark Day,
Danielle Patucci,
The Modern Lovers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fall,
Ronnie Foster,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hoover,
Scan 7,
Los Fastidios,
Reuben Wilson,
Matthew Halsall,
10cc,
The Barracudas,
Max Romeo,
Alison Limerick,
Blossom Toes,
Bluetip,
Nico,
Henry Cow,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Gories,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Motorama,
DJ Style,
Lalann,
Lucky Dragons,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Morten Harket,
Symarip,
Gang Green,
Skarface,
Peter and Kerry,
Moby Grape,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ronan,
Cecil Taylor,
B.T. Express,
Banda Bassotti,
A Certain Ratio,
Delta 5,
Minnie Riperton,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.