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 Zimbabwe and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 organ 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ossler,
Anthony Braxton,
Piero Umiliani,
The J.B.'s,
Scan 7,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Seeds,
The Offenders,
The Cowsills,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wings,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai,
CMW,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Panda Bear,
Minutemen,
Visage,
New Order,
Rakim,
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
Prince Buster,
Section 25,
Crooked Eye,
Sandy B,
Moby Grape,
Tropical Tobacco,
Los Fastidios,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
The Five Americans,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yusef Lateef,
Niagra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mummies,
June Days,
Gabor Szabo,
Skarface,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wolf Eyes,
Easy Going,
Bush Tetras,
Heaven 17,
The Happenings,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The New Christs,
PIL,
Severed Heads,
Mark Hollis,
Depeche Mode,
Malaria!,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.