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 Nauru and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Country Teasers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Aswad,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bobby Sherman,
Arcadia,
L. Decosne,
Half Japanese,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cure,
Donald Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
The Residents,
The American Breed,
Rites of Spring,
Minor Threat,
Iggy Pop,
Siglo XX,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Juan Atkins,
The Searchers,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Green,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cameo,
Pere Ubu,
The Birthday Party,
The Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tommy Roe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Schoolly D,
The Toasters,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Liliput,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marmalade,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dark Day,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
The Knickerbockers,
The Velvet Underground,
Index,
Black Moon,
Derrick Morgan,
Slick Rick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Byron Stingily,
The Doors,
Outsiders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Associates,
Cecil Taylor,
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.