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 Maldives and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes 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 Dark Day to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Y Pants,
ABBA,
Pussy Galore,
Lalann,
Rapeman,
June Days,
Minutemen,
Panda Bear,
Stereo Dub,
Archie Shepp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Last Poets,
Half Japanese,
Morten Harket,
The Seeds,
Lungfish,
The Residents,
Minny Pops,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
Barrington Levy,
Camberwell Now,
Adolescents,
Lou Reed,
Infiniti,
H. Thieme,
R.M.O.,
The Smoke,
The Zeros,
Symarip,
James Chance & The Contortions,
New Age Steppers,
Lindisfarne,
Vainqueur,
Nick Fraelich,
Absolute Body Control,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Sex Pistols,
CMW,
Joe Smooth,
MC5,
Marmalade,
Minor Threat,
Mark Hollis,
Rites of Spring,
Bang On A Can,
Faust,
Jacob Miller,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Swell Maps,
These Immortal Souls,
David Axelrod,
The Fuzztones,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.