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 Jamaica and from Glasgow.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Agitation Free to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aloha Tigers,
Whodini,
Popol Vuh,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Saccharine Trust,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Bananas,
Soft Cell,
OOIOO,
Livin' Joy,
Pussy Galore,
The Dave Clark Five,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minor Threat,
Lucky Dragons,
Fatback Band,
Fela Kuti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Bar-Kays,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cal Tjader,
Newcleus,
Moby Grape,
T.S.O.L.,
Swans,
John Lydon,
John Holt,
Albert Ayler,
Anthony Braxton,
Wings,
Hoover,
Gichy Dan,
The Gap Band,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moleskins,
The Stooges,
Khruangbin,
New York Dolls,
Pole,
Aural Exciters,
Charles Mingus,
Ossler,
Rotary Connection,
EPMD,
Oneida,
Jerry's Kids,
The Monks,
The Techniques,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kenny Larkin,
Laurel Aitken,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Walker Brothers,
Bob Dylan,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.