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 Switzerland and from London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
The Durutti Column,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skaos,
Byron Stingily,
T. Rex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Juan Atkins,
B.T. Express,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sister Nancy,
Silicon Teens,
Pantytec,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Wells,
The Young Rascals,
Banda Bassotti,
The American Breed,
The Offenders,
Radiohead,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agent Orange,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter and Kerry,
The Happenings,
Ice-T,
Andrew Hill,
Magma,
Idris Muhammad,
Zero Boys,
Ronan,
Cybotron,
Skriet,
Urselle,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Stooges,
Joy Division,
Rod Modell,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Moon,
The Motions,
Livin' Joy,
Bad Manners,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
This Heat,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Neon Judgement,
Maleditus Sound,
K-Klass,
Ossler,
Unwound,
Rekid,
Dual Sessions,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.