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 Micronesia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Gories to the rock 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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Robert Wyatt,
Fela Kuti,
Monolake,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blossom Toes,
Sexual Harrassment,
B.T. Express,
Jerry's Kids,
Parry Music,
PIL,
Cameo,
Buzzcocks,
Silicon Teens,
Deadbeat,
The Residents,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Monochrome Set,
Funkadelic,
The Moleskins,
Chrome,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Hood,
Scratch Acid,
Letta Mbulu,
Eli Mardock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Adolescents,
Wasted Youth,
Ice-T,
Marcia Griffiths,
LL Cool J,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Davy DMX,
Suicide,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
One Last Wish,
The Evens,
The Divine Comedy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Khruangbin,
MC5,
Rufus Thomas,
Audionom,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Man Parrish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
James White and The Blacks,
Underground Resistance,
Television,
Quadrant,
Banda Bassotti,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scion,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.