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 Cameroon and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gastr Del Sol to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Rapeman,
Underground Resistance,
Dave Gahan,
T. Rex,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Fraelich,
The Evens,
Letta Mbulu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Moody Blues,
The Blues Magoos,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minnie Riperton,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Young Rascals,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minor Threat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
U.S. Maple,
Blancmange,
Mr. Review,
Soul II Soul,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric Copeland,
Half Japanese,
Talk Talk,
The Residents,
The Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
The Sonics,
The Five Americans,
Fad Gadget,
Alphaville,
B.T. Express,
The Skatalites,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
This Heat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bang On A Can,
Shuggie Otis,
Althea and Donna,
The Pop Group,
Wasted Youth,
Quadrant,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Derrick May,
The Neon Judgement,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mo-Dettes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lightning Bolt,
The Searchers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Adolescents,
Depeche Mode,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.