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 Sierra Leone and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Television Personalities to the crunk 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
The Velvet Underground,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Popol Vuh,
Lakeside,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jandek,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Remains,
Surgeon,
F. McDonald,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q65,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Detroit Cobras,
Half Japanese,
The Stooges,
Simply Red,
Bob Dylan,
Ossler,
Shoche,
June of 44,
Lucky Dragons,
Brand Nubian,
Slave,
Pole,
Roxette,
Skriet,
Pulsallama,
Bauhaus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ituana,
Public Enemy,
Cecil Taylor,
Rufus Thomas,
Duran Duran,
Cameo,
Erasure,
Eddi Front,
Sällskapet,
10cc,
One Last Wish,
John Lydon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vladislav Delay,
the Bar-Kays,
Symarip,
Goldenarms,
MDC,
Altered Images,
Nick Fraelich,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nik Kershaw,
Qualms,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.