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 Namibia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ice-T to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Howard Jones,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Thee Headcoats,
Suburban Knight,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythm & Sound,
Cluster,
Eden Ahbez,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
Ituana,
Young Marble Giants,
The Motions,
Lindisfarne,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Silicon Teens,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Wyatt,
Urselle,
Lakeside,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
The United States of America,
Symarip,
Bobby Womack,
Sister Nancy,
New York Dolls,
Sound Behaviour,
Todd Rundgren,
Darondo,
Gichy Dan,
Arthur Verocai,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Lydon,
Soulsonic Force,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Q65,
Neu!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Angels of Light,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soft Machine,
Blake Baxter,
PIL,
X-101,
Chris Corsano,
Ronnie Foster,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camouflage,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
These Immortal Souls,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.