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 Mexico and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro 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 Bizarre Inc. to the crunk 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Cluster,
The Sound,
The Trojans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cal Tjader,
Glenn Branca,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed,
Ultra Naté,
Black Pus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Procol Harum,
Q and Not U,
Yusef Lateef,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Franke,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hot Snakes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joe Smooth,
Absolute Body Control,
The Kinks,
Brand Nubian,
Howard Jones,
Suburban Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Cale,
Bluetip,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eurythmics,
The Slackers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
Barbara Tucker,
The Moleskins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Minor Threat,
Amazonics,
Pantaleimon,
Trumans Water,
Tommy Roe,
Unwound,
Pagans,
The Standells,
X-Ray Spex,
Marvin Gaye,
Ohio Players,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.