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 Dominica and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 Steve Hackett to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wake. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
CMW,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Move,
Bang On A Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Knickerbockers,
Youth Brigade,
Main Source,
The Mummies,
The Misunderstood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Starr,
The Smiths,
The Walker Brothers,
Chris Corsano,
Chrome,
Albert Ayler,
Smog,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barbara Tucker,
Von Mondo,
Fat Boys,
Q65,
The Mojo Men,
Aloha Tigers,
Depeche Mode,
Panda Bear,
Silicon Teens,
Motorama,
The Fugs,
Mr. Review,
Throbbing Gristle,
Girls At Our Best!,
Au Pairs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nirvana,
Morten Harket,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Erasure,
Sex Pistols,
Flipper,
Piero Umiliani,
Supertramp,
Moss Icon,
Rites of Spring,
KRS-One,
Peter and Kerry,
kango's stein massive,
Danielle Patucci,
Jerry's Kids,
Pole,
The Invisible,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.