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 Haiti and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Ultra Naté,
The Pop Group,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Chris & Cosey,
Roxy Music,
Groovy Waters,
Alton Ellis,
The Evens,
Young Marble Giants,
Quantec,
Pole,
The Litter,
The Zeros,
The Golliwogs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Circle Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Bluetip,
Isaac Hayes,
Crash Course in Science,
Derrick Morgan,
Susan Cadogan,
The Monks,
Scientists,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lower 48,
Television Personalities,
Altered Images,
Sound Behaviour,
Quadrant,
Reagan Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Piero Umiliani,
New Age Steppers,
The J.B.'s,
Robert Görl,
Nico,
The Gap Band,
Bill Near,
Echospace,
Make Up,
T. Rex,
Sugar Minott,
Throbbing Gristle,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Man Parrish,
Barry Ungar,
Idris Muhammad,
Skaos,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ken Boothe,
Crooked Eye,
the Human League,
Smog,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Knickerbockers,
The Saints,
the Germs,
Yazoo,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.