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 Montenegro and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the rap 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Half Japanese,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sexual Harrassment,
Television,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Y Pants,
Matthew Bourne,
Groovy Waters,
The Red Krayola,
Ultravox,
Marmalade,
Sällskapet,
Fat Boys,
Sparks,
Liliput,
Bill Near,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
OOIOO,
Kurtis Blow,
Eurythmics,
Alison Limerick,
The Pop Group,
Darondo,
Tommy Roe,
Blake Baxter,
Newcleus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Warsaw,
The Litter,
Trumans Water,
Susan Cadogan,
Pantytec,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
KRS-One,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sound Behaviour,
Erasure,
Pierre Henry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Trojans,
Glenn Branca,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blossom Toes,
the Germs,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Human League,
Toni Rubio,
The Real Kids,
Niagra,
Chris Corsano,
MC5,
Average White Band,
The Pretty Things,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.