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 Kyrgyzstan and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe 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 Freddie Wadling 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Schoolly D,
Liliput,
Kaleidoscope,
Joy Division,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Style,
The Busters,
Tomorrow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
E-Dancer,
The Human League,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wolf Eyes,
Minnie Riperton,
ABBA,
Soul II Soul,
The Grass Roots,
Dual Sessions,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter & Gordon,
Bill Near,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mojo Men,
Ossler,
Isaac Hayes,
Brass Construction,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Siglo XX,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
This Heat,
The Fire Engines,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Qualms,
Morten Harket,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Sheep,
Mark Hollis,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-101,
Ten City,
Youth Brigade,
Faraquet,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Wyatt,
The Young Rascals,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
Trumans Water,
Circle Jerks,
Susan Cadogan,
Mandrill,
Unwound,
David Axelrod,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick Morgan,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.