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 Tonga and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
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 spring reverb 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 Tomorrow to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks 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?
Shuggie Otis,
Newcleus,
DNA,
Lee Hazlewood,
Absolute Body Control,
Hardrive,
Mr. Review,
Crime,
The Toasters,
Desert Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Sound Behaviour,
Radiopuhelimet,
David Bowie,
Cybotron,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Green,
Rakim,
Altered Images,
The Star Department,
The Smoke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Prince Buster,
Joy Division,
Sam Rivers,
Brand Nubian,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fugazi,
The Vogues,
Hot Snakes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mad Mike,
The Standells,
Icehouse,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Human League,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Blues Magoos,
Barrington Levy,
Eden Ahbez,
The Young Rascals,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Panda Bear,
Harry Pussy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantytec,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Clear Light,
Graham Central Station,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin,
10cc,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.