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 Fiji and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer 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 Gang of Four to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
James White and The Blacks,
Sandy B,
Drexciya,
Subhumans,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
Brand Nubian,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
Goldenarms,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Sherman,
The Divine Comedy,
Wire,
The Invisible,
Scientists,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Davy DMX,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Icehouse,
Kerri Chandler,
Das Ding,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Vladislav Delay,
Albert Ayler,
Barbara Tucker,
Yaz,
Mad Mike,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Hill,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Buzzcocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Victims,
Al Stewart,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reuben Wilson,
Sister Nancy,
The Red Krayola,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lyres,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
B.T. Express,
Motorama,
Eric B and Rakim,
Faust,
Fear,
Amon Düül,
Ultravox,
Roxette,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.