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 Cuba and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Misunderstood 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
10cc,
Warsaw,
Subhumans,
Rekid,
Black Pus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oneida,
Cameo,
Mr. Review,
Joy Division,
The Beau Brummels,
Prince Buster,
Lucky Dragons,
Slave,
The Moody Blues,
Second Layer,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Underground Resistance,
Rosa Yemen,
E-Dancer,
Susan Cadogan,
Main Source,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Modern Lovers,
The Black Dice,
Spoonie Gee,
Marmalade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mars,
Youth Brigade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Idris Muhammad,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roger Hodgson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radiohead,
Reuben Wilson,
B.T. Express,
Malaria!,
The Durutti Column,
DJ Style,
The Standells,
The Happenings,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bauhaus,
The Neon Judgement,
Cal Tjader,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Leaves,
Suburban Knight,
Delta 5,
Visage,
Monks,
Pantytec,
The Five Americans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Outsiders,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.