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 Saudi Arabia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator 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 The Fuzztones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Evens,
ABC,
Jacques Brel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Roger Hodgson,
Iggy Pop,
E-Dancer,
The Fugs,
Bluetip,
Siglo XX,
Excepter,
Eric Copeland,
Tres Demented,
X-102,
Tomorrow,
Panda Bear,
Soft Cell,
Minny Pops,
Essential Logic,
New Age Steppers,
Donny Hathaway,
The Blackbyrds,
Chrome,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fall,
X-Ray Spex,
Rites of Spring,
The Misunderstood,
Shuggie Otis,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
Barclay James Harvest,
Thompson Twins,
Ohio Players,
Bush Tetras,
Arcadia,
Johnny Clarke,
Nick Fraelich,
Leonard Cohen,
Brick,
Scott Walker,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Rundgren,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nils Olav,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Divine Comedy,
Mars,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Saints,
Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
Gerry Rafferty,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Music Machine,
Dark Day,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.