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 India and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Lou Reed 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 Eric B and Rakim 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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Stiv Bators,
X-101,
John Lydon,
Wire,
Tommy Roe,
Fluxion,
Malaria!,
Alton Ellis,
The Young Rascals,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare,
Lyres,
John Cale,
Mark Hollis,
Aswad,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Popol Vuh,
The Moody Blues,
Ronan,
Banda Bassotti,
Massinfluence,
Animal Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
The Busters,
Schoolly D,
Make Up,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blancmange,
The Walker Brothers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kaleidoscope,
Tubeway Army,
Sällskapet,
The Slackers,
Sandy B,
Brand Nubian,
New Age Steppers,
Clear Light,
Dark Day,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gang Starr,
The Black Dice,
Motorama,
H. Thieme,
Alphaville,
Bronski Beat,
The Mojo Men,
Carl Craig,
Pagans,
The Gories,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pretty Things,
Scientists,
Gil Scott Heron,
Q and Not U,
Underground Resistance,
the Slits,
The Sound,
Terry Callier,
New York Dolls,
the Sonics,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.