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 Yemen and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Michael McDonald 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 Malaria! to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
X-101,
Gabor Szabo,
John Foxx,
Sun City Girls,
Mr. Review,
Black Bananas,
The Barracudas,
The Techniques,
Outsiders,
Todd Rundgren,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
The Cowsills,
Pierre Henry,
Flipper,
Colin Newman,
Danielle Patucci,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
8 Eyed Spy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boredoms,
Von Mondo,
Mandrill,
Prince Buster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
John Coltrane,
Siglo XX,
Goldenarms,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pagans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Maleditus Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gladiators,
Little Man,
The Toasters,
Barbara Tucker,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kayak,
Connie Case,
Cabaret Voltaire,
R.M.O.,
Hasil Adkins,
Duran Duran,
The Standells,
The Busters,
Susan Cadogan,
Lungfish,
Junior Murvin,
The Fugs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rosa Yemen,
Massinfluence,
Wire,
Roy Ayers,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.