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 Antigua and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ohio Players 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines 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?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tres Demented,
Monks,
Fluxion,
Lightning Bolt,
Deadbeat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lindisfarne,
Siglo XX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pere Ubu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Loose Ends,
Procol Harum,
Charles Mingus,
The Saints,
DNA,
The Victims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crash Course in Science,
10cc,
Masters at Work,
Accadde A,
Neil Young,
Blancmange,
Albert Ayler,
David Axelrod,
Brass Construction,
Wings,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Darondo,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Wake,
Toni Rubio,
Newcleus,
China Crisis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Womack,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
Deepchord,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June Days,
Little Man,
ABBA,
Symarip,
Fugazi,
Throbbing Gristle,
Supertramp,
Quando Quango,
Panda Bear,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Parrish,
La Düsseldorf,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.