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 Cape Verde and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord 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 Index to the rap 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
FM Einheit,
Fela Kuti,
Skriet,
Echospace,
Nils Olav,
New Age Steppers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bad Manners,
Little Man,
The Count Five,
Lou Reed,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Public Enemy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Flag,
Kayak,
Country Teasers,
Half Japanese,
Delon & Dalcan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Janne Schatter,
Man Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gap Band,
Camberwell Now,
Dead Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
Eric B and Rakim,
The New Christs,
Sun Ra,
Marcia Griffiths,
E-Dancer,
Toni Rubio,
The Angels of Light,
Gong,
the Human League,
Steve Hackett,
Drive Like Jehu,
Duran Duran,
Television,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
Nick Fraelich,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Style,
David Bowie,
Circle Jerks,
Danielle Patucci,
Idris Muhammad,
Bluetip,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Hood,
Gang Starr,
John Cale,
H. Thieme,
Ponytail,
Stereo Dub,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.