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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Hong Kong and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Harpers Bizarre to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
June of 44,
Colin Newman,
Anthony Braxton,
Crash Course in Science,
Rosa Yemen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arcadia,
The Gladiators,
Suicide,
Easy Going,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
T.S.O.L.,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
Theoretical Girls,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ohio Players,
Groovy Waters,
Scientists,
Mr. Review,
The Busters,
Brass Construction,
Underground Resistance,
New York Dolls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cowsills,
Con Funk Shun,
Heaven 17,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Flash Fearless,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rapeman,
Eli Mardock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Happenings,
Vainqueur,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy Collins,
John Holt,
Fear,
Lou Reed,
Nik Kershaw,
Silicon Teens,
Lindisfarne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Radiohead,
Zero Boys,
Flipper,
Television,
The Walker Brothers,
Franke,
Rod Modell,
Reagan Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
The Human League,
Motorama,
Bauhaus,
Hasil Adkins,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.