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 Ethiopia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 Fat Boys to the funk 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Interpol,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Pop Group,
Little Man,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reagan Youth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Intrusion,
Warsaw,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scrapy,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Faust,
Rod Modell,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
Toni Rubio,
Ossler,
Bobby Byrd,
Television Personalities,
LL Cool J,
Deadbeat,
Fad Gadget,
X-102,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Style,
Barbara Tucker,
Wally Richardson,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Buzzcocks,
China Crisis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Howard Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Henry Cow,
Adolescents,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Vogues,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
Yellowson,
Television,
Sonic Youth,
Ice-T,
R.M.O.,
Ohio Players,
Magma,
Blancmange,
The Invisible,
The Moody Blues,
The Barracudas,
Aural Exciters,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.