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 Cameroon and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rakim to the crunk 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
New Order,
Dave Gahan,
Eve St. Jones,
a-ha,
Rosa Yemen,
The Smoke,
Rotary Connection,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Alice Coltrane,
Saccharine Trust,
H. Thieme,
Todd Terry,
Yellowson,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül,
Josef K,
Infiniti,
Danielle Patucci,
Liliput,
Stiv Bators,
Young Marble Giants,
the Association,
Alton Ellis,
Ken Boothe,
June of 44,
Echospace,
Das Ding,
Scrapy,
Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
Q and Not U,
Todd Rundgren,
Sexual Harrassment,
Second Layer,
Matthew Halsall,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
KRS-One,
Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Last Poets,
This Heat,
Siglo XX,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
John Cale,
MC5,
Lindisfarne,
Deadbeat,
The Music Machine,
Godley & Creme,
Letta Mbulu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kayak,
Soulsonic Force,
Eddi Front,
The Leaves,
Subhumans,
Anakelly,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.