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 Dominica and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 Gong to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Bauhaus,
Wally Richardson,
The Leaves,
Robert Görl,
Radiohead,
The Evens,
The Kinks,
Byron Stingily,
Ornette Coleman,
10cc,
Monolake,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gun Club,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Pop Group,
Kenny Larkin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minnie Riperton,
Y Pants,
Lee Hazlewood,
Animal Collective,
The Victims,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Buckinghams,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Pet Shop Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vladislav Delay,
Icehouse,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
Ronan,
The Misunderstood,
Supertramp,
Fat Boys,
Simply Red,
Eric Dolphy,
Neu!,
Todd Rundgren,
Suburban Knight,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Circle Jerks,
Depeche Mode,
Fatback Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Doors,
Lalann,
LL Cool J,
OOIOO,
Alice Coltrane,
Josef K,
Qualms,
Joey Negro,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres,
These Immortal Souls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pylon,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.