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 Turkey and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Thompson Twins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Sheep,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Finger,
Donny Hathaway,
Sixth Finger,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hot Snakes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Fuzztones,
Pantytec,
The Electric Prunes,
The Grass Roots,
Youth Brigade,
Mandrill,
Lalann,
Tom Boy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radiohead,
Masters at Work,
Accadde A,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronan,
Letta Mbulu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scientists,
Cybotron,
Erykah Badu,
The Buckinghams,
Eric Copeland,
Funkadelic,
Underground Resistance,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nico,
Crispy Ambulance,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Thee Headcoats,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Magma,
Harmonia,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Idris Muhammad,
Interpol,
FM Einheit,
Gang of Four,
Howard Jones,
Yazoo,
Roger Hodgson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rekid,
Crooked Eye,
Jawbox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scan 7,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-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.