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 Bangladesh and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Barclay James Harvest to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
The Smiths,
Soul II Soul,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dirtbombs,
The Sonics,
Mr. Review,
Davy DMX,
Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Malaria!,
Camberwell Now,
Warren Ellis,
Audionom,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Buckinghams,
Blossom Toes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Panda Bear,
Dorothy Ashby,
Average White Band,
D'Angelo,
Tres Demented,
Pet Shop Boys,
Khruangbin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Yellowson,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed,
The Gun Club,
Slave,
The Slackers,
Jeff Mills,
Simply Red,
Public Enemy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Invisible,
The New Christs,
The Fall,
Sugar Minott,
One Last Wish,
Agent Orange,
June Days,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nico,
Hardrive,
UT,
Eric Dolphy,
Trumans Water,
Black Sheep,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Blues Magoos,
Interpol,
Jacques Brel,
Fat Boys,
Stereo Dub,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.