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 Nauru and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Malaria! to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Tomorrow,
The Fugs,
Echospace,
Toni Rubio,
Livin' Joy,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Moon,
DJ Style,
Sam Rivers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Golliwogs,
Blossom Toes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Grey Daturas,
Fatback Band,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Kurtis Blow,
Smog,
Malaria!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
MC5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Pretty Things,
Tommy Roe,
Soul II Soul,
Guru Guru,
Index,
Don Cherry,
Pierre Henry,
Vladislav Delay,
Angry Samoans,
ABBA,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Hood,
Spoonie Gee,
Ludus,
Interpol,
Ronnie Foster,
The Last Poets,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultra Naté,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fortunes,
Amazonics,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Das Ding,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
the Human League,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
Trumans Water,
Motorama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
a-ha,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.