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 Guinea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Second Layer to the techno 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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
The J.B.'s,
Eddi Front,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
The Buckinghams,
Zero Boys,
Duran Duran,
Crooked Eye,
Ituana,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Don Cherry,
Lungfish,
the Slits,
Robert Hood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
MDC,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rapeman,
The Young Rascals,
The Durutti Column,
Infiniti,
The Seeds,
CMW,
Swans,
The Beau Brummels,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Morten Harket,
Brick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Connie Case,
Easy Going,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hot Snakes,
Fear,
Mo-Dettes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Angry Samoans,
Bang On A Can,
The Fall,
Johnny Clarke,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Shoche,
Rotary Connection,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Modern Lovers,
Absolute Body Control,
Rakim,
Slick Rick,
Kurtis Blow,
Pylon,
Matthew Halsall,
Hoover,
Reagan Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mission of Burma,
Arcadia,
Barclay James Harvest,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.