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 Lithuania and from Portland.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terry Callier to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
World's Most,
Brick,
Sällskapet,
The Slackers,
Los Fastidios,
Dennis Brown,
Sex Pistols,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Neu!,
Agent Orange,
This Heat,
LL Cool J,
Television Personalities,
Donald Byrd,
The Fall,
The Gun Club,
Scion,
Connie Case,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kenny Larkin,
Fugazi,
T. Rex,
Kool Moe Dee,
UT,
Zero Boys,
Pantytec,
Au Pairs,
Parry Music,
Hardrive,
The Mighty Diamonds,
New Age Steppers,
The Last Poets,
Newcleus,
The Victims,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Eddi Front,
Minny Pops,
The Modern Lovers,
Outsiders,
Suicide,
Tim Buckley,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amon Düül II,
Essential Logic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yellowson,
Sam Rivers,
Pantaleimon,
Vainqueur,
Model 500,
Rod Modell,
Slick Rick,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Faraquet,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
the Slits,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.