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 Malta and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Isaac Hayes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
The Techniques,
Japan,
Easy Going,
Stetsasonic,
LL Cool J,
Aural Exciters,
The Standells,
The Count Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Idris Muhammad,
Agent Orange,
The Seeds,
UT,
Barrington Levy,
Quadrant,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moleskins,
Mark Hollis,
Roxy Music,
Rapeman,
Lou Christie,
Pole,
Steve Hackett,
Mary Jane Girls,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Birthday Party,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Lydon,
One Last Wish,
Man Parrish,
The Dirtbombs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Searchers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Surgeon,
Blancmange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Teasers,
Black Pus,
Franke,
The Doors,
Soul II Soul,
Desert Stars,
Delta 5,
Howard Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Selecter,
Das Ding,
Bush Tetras,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Flag,
Basic Channel,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.