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 Bahamas and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Throbbing Gristle to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Scientists,
Bang On A Can,
Junior Murvin,
The Doors,
Rod Modell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
B.T. Express,
Brass Construction,
The Walker Brothers,
Camouflage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Absolute Body Control,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amon Düül II,
Eve St. Jones,
David Bowie,
Leonard Cohen,
8 Eyed Spy,
The New Christs,
Bootsy Collins,
Y Pants,
Masters at Work,
ABC,
The Martian,
Suicide,
Cymande,
The Mojo Men,
Archie Shepp,
Ossler,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Sherman,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Associates,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sixth Finger,
kango's stein massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul Sonic Force,
Can,
Dark Day,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maurizio,
Cal Tjader,
Sugar Minott,
Supertramp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Smiths,
Alison Limerick,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang Starr,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Black Dice,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.