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 Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Motorama,
Yellowson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Animal Collective,
Robert Wyatt,
Faraquet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ten City,
Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Unwound,
Rosa Yemen,
The Count Five,
The Evens,
Joyce Sims,
The Blackbyrds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hardrive,
The Gun Club,
Oneida,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Pus,
ABBA,
John Foxx,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mr. Review,
The Smoke,
Dennis Brown,
Infiniti,
Oblivians,
The Index,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Five Americans,
DNA,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scan 7,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pagans,
The Moody Blues,
The Slackers,
Pulsallama,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pop Group,
The Cowsills,
Index,
Kerri Chandler,
Technova,
Ralphi Rosario,
Q65,
Deakin,
Roxette,
World's Most,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wolf Eyes,
John Holt,
The Walker Brothers,
Slave,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.