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 Azerbaijan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the crunk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gichy Dan,
Eli Mardock,
Howard Jones,
The Searchers,
Hashim,
Oneida,
the Association,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
Babytalk,
Lightning Bolt,
Sun City Girls,
JFA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Warren Ellis,
Pole,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
Mark Hollis,
Joey Negro,
Brand Nubian,
Ken Boothe,
T. Rex,
the Germs,
Rod Modell,
Nick Fraelich,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
Isaac Hayes,
Easy Going,
New York Dolls,
Bootsy Collins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Todd Rundgren,
Ice-T,
Von Mondo,
Flipper,
Pulsallama,
Slave,
Con Funk Shun,
Subhumans,
Nirvana,
Chrome,
Depeche Mode,
Popol Vuh,
The Cure,
The Fire Engines,
Erykah Badu,
The Five Americans,
Icehouse,
The Techniques,
Minor Threat,
Moby Grape,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Smooth,
Nico,
Agitation Free,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.