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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Rhythm & Sound to the electroclash 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sugar Minott,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bootsy Collins,
K-Klass,
the Association,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gun Club,
Au Pairs,
Mo-Dettes,
The Standells,
Dawn Penn,
The Mummies,
Mad Mike,
Eve St. Jones,
Excepter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Hardrive,
Albert Ayler,
cv313,
Gichy Dan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
Lyres,
Oblivians,
Gang Starr,
Aural Exciters,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cramps,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
Y Pants,
Crooked Eye,
Maurizio,
Joyce Sims,
The Move,
Nils Olav,
Stetsasonic,
The Moody Blues,
Amon Düül,
Aswad,
The Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
The Happenings,
Kaleidoscope,
Main Source,
The Fuzztones,
Fat Boys,
Erasure,
Lower 48,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mars,
David Bowie,
Cybotron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Reagan Youth,
Byron Stingily,
Oneida,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.