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 United States and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Moby Grape to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
Agitation Free,
Sexual Harrassment,
This Heat,
Flipper,
Idris Muhammad,
Cymande,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pantaleimon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Sonics,
Infiniti,
Stetsasonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alice Coltrane,
Ituana,
H. Thieme,
Unwound,
Fear,
Sarah Menescal,
The Misunderstood,
Terrestrial Tones,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultravox,
Marmalade,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Franke,
Black Bananas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Royal Trux,
Prince Buster,
Minnie Riperton,
Roy Ayers,
Ornette Coleman,
John Coltrane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Make Up,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Byrd,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mummies,
The Grass Roots,
Quantec,
Nik Kershaw,
E-Dancer,
Pere Ubu,
Lalann,
Panda Bear,
Anthony Braxton,
Jeff Lynne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hot Snakes,
Desert Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Andrew Hill,
Davy DMX,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.