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 Beijing.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Quantec to the techno 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Charles Mingus,
The Mojo Men,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Selecter,
The Residents,
Surgeon,
Arab on Radar,
The Saints,
Crime,
Liliput,
Man Eating Sloth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Bananas,
Black Sheep,
The Sound,
Easy Going,
Crispian St. Peters,
Animal Collective,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Youth Brigade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DNA,
Television,
LL Cool J,
Qualms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Monks,
Erasure,
Black Moon,
Delta 5,
Talk Talk,
Joyce Sims,
Grey Daturas,
The Moody Blues,
Aural Exciters,
Guru Guru,
R.M.O.,
Lalann,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
Cecil Taylor,
Tommy Roe,
Black Flag,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Glambeats Corp.,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed,
Donny Hathaway,
Clear Light,
Alison Limerick,
MDC,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.