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 Zambia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 The Saints to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Tomorrow,
Donald Byrd,
The Leaves,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Brick,
Talk Talk,
The Motions,
Minor Threat,
Sällskapet,
The Names,
Eric Copeland,
Duran Duran,
Steve Hackett,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Black Moon,
Aswad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Vladislav Delay,
The Moleskins,
Dark Day,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
F. McDonald,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ituana,
Faust,
Babytalk,
Television,
Funky Four + One,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun Ra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Swans,
Carl Craig,
Con Funk Shun,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Womack,
Radio Birdman,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
James White and The Blacks,
Albert Ayler,
Rufus Thomas,
Monolake,
The Evens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pere Ubu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Interpol,
Susan Cadogan,
Scott Walker,
Chris Corsano,
Parry Music,
Bauhaus,
The Star Department,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.