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 Barbados and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Bronski Beat,
Ultimate Spinach,
a-ha,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flamin' Groovies,
DJ Style,
Robert Görl,
Sugar Minott,
Lucky Dragons,
Joensuu 1685,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deakin,
The Gladiators,
Agent Orange,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eric Dolphy,
The Pop Group,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Joyce Sims,
Pagans,
The Sound,
Yazoo,
Judy Mowatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Misunderstood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ice-T,
Nick Fraelich,
The Stooges,
Icehouse,
Idris Muhammad,
Massinfluence,
Cymande,
La Düsseldorf,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris & Cosey,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
Popol Vuh,
Jeff Lynne,
Brick,
Boredoms,
EPMD,
Byron Stingily,
The Associates,
AZ,
Fear,
T. Rex,
Pussy Galore,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Y Pants,
The Slackers,
Roxette,
Unwound,
The Young Rascals,
Panda Bear,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.