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 Switzerland and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Black Flag to the techno 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slackers,
Inner City,
The Seeds,
The Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Oblivians,
Cybotron,
Arthur Verocai,
John Coltrane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Qualms,
Kenny Larkin,
The Barracudas,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joensuu 1685,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donny Hathaway,
Patti Smith,
Buzzcocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minny Pops,
Ossler,
Roxette,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Slick Rick,
Girls At Our Best!,
Y Pants,
Laurel Aitken,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Guru Guru,
Ice-T,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tomorrow,
Skarface,
The Techniques,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lalann,
Harry Pussy,
Mad Mike,
David Axelrod,
ABC,
Todd Rundgren,
ABBA,
Section 25,
Scrapy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Smoke,
Stetsasonic,
Yusef Lateef,
Glenn Branca,
Theoretical Girls,
Skaos,
The Fuzztones,
The Invisible,
Malaria!,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.