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 South Sudan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar 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 Soul II Soul to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro 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 grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Henry Cow,
Smog,
Michelle Simonal,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The J.B.'s,
Can,
the Germs,
Rod Modell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
ABBA,
Blossom Toes,
Lungfish,
Rakim,
Roy Ayers,
The Selecter,
Quantec,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wasted Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Josef K,
Alison Limerick,
Masters at Work,
Erykah Badu,
Flipper,
Deepchord,
Jacques Brel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Guru Guru,
Siglo XX,
Pylon,
Pere Ubu,
The Real Kids,
The Raincoats,
New Order,
China Crisis,
The Offenders,
Chrome,
Minnie Riperton,
Morten Harket,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crime,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minny Pops,
Groovy Waters,
Albert Ayler,
Eric Copeland,
Section 25,
Pantaleimon,
Audionom,
Lou Reed,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.