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 Latvia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Grass Roots 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lungfish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Malaria!,
the Slits,
Moebius,
Sixth Finger,
Hardrive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Invisible,
DJ Sneak,
The Fortunes,
Boredoms,
ABBA,
Rites of Spring,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sex Pistols,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
June of 44,
Sällskapet,
Stiv Bators,
Scratch Acid,
T.S.O.L.,
Brand Nubian,
New Order,
China Crisis,
The Electric Prunes,
Gang Starr,
The Blues Magoos,
Cheater Slicks,
Sandy B,
Roger Hodgson,
Siglo XX,
The Stooges,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Morten Harket,
Skaos,
Scientists,
Country Teasers,
Can,
The American Breed,
Connie Case,
Zapp,
Liliput,
Slick Rick,
Arthur Verocai,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minny Pops,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reagan Youth,
The Searchers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
Loose Ends,
Kerri Chandler,
Soft Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.