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 Tonga and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fugazi to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Freddie Wadling,
PIL,
Sparks,
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Human League,
The Saints,
Loose Ends,
John Lydon,
Judy Mowatt,
Altered Images,
Colin Newman,
Trumans Water,
Dark Day,
The Pop Group,
Iggy Pop,
Infiniti,
The Offenders,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hardrive,
Icehouse,
Banda Bassotti,
The Fortunes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blake Baxter,
In Retrospect,
Girls At Our Best!,
Q65,
Archie Shepp,
Dennis Brown,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moby Grape,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Happenings,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Real Kids,
the Sonics,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Style,
Skriet,
Sonic Youth,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
Albert Ayler,
The Sonics,
Deepchord,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Qualms,
Ludus,
Peter & Gordon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs,
Scion,
The Remains,
Bronski Beat,
Schoolly D,
The United States of America,
Absolute Body Control,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.