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 Tuvalu and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Holger Czukay 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 X-Ray Spex to the punk 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Shuggie Otis,
Cameo,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fire Engines,
Main Source,
Lakeside,
One Last Wish,
Pantytec,
Flipper,
The Moleskins,
The American Breed,
Tears for Fears,
Letta Mbulu,
Saccharine Trust,
Neu!,
Mandrill,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Blancmange,
The Doobie Brothers,
Whodini,
DJ Style,
K-Klass,
James White and The Blacks,
Adolescents,
Kerri Chandler,
the Soft Cell,
Cymande,
The Velvet Underground,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
The Slits,
Can,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cure,
Wasted Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Beau Brummels,
CMW,
Eric Copeland,
Ice-T,
Dennis Brown,
the Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tim Buckley,
Graham Central Station,
Monolake,
Scrapy,
Swell Maps,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aaron Thompson,
Piero Umiliani,
Barrington Levy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
10cc,
Roxette,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.