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 Singapore and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grauzone to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Cramps,
Deadbeat,
Rekid,
The Victims,
The Motions,
Black Pus,
Scratch Acid,
Black Sheep,
Henry Cow,
Kool Moe Dee,
Suburban Knight,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
F. McDonald,
Theoretical Girls,
PIL,
Pantaleimon,
Joe Finger,
The Techniques,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Hood,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Near,
Slave,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Danielle Patucci,
John Coltrane,
Agent Orange,
Metal Thangz,
Thee Headcoats,
Dave Gahan,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Red Krayola,
Ronan,
Tom Boy,
Youth Brigade,
Second Layer,
Von Mondo,
Deepchord,
Hashim,
the Swans,
The Neon Judgement,
The Velvet Underground,
LL Cool J,
Negative Approach,
The Flesh Eaters,
Todd Rundgren,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dennis Brown,
Monks,
the Normal,
Steve Hackett,
R.M.O.,
Al Stewart,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.