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 Bhutan and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Blossom Toes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Sparks,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Bananas,
R.M.O.,
Gabor Szabo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pylon,
Maleditus Sound,
Niagra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pole,
Jacob Miller,
Agent Orange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
the Human League,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Raincoats,
Ten City,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amon Düül,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Neon Judgement,
Vladislav Delay,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
Gang Gang Dance,
AZ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Martian,
Buzzcocks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Monks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
The J.B.'s,
Jerry's Kids,
Fugazi,
Kayak,
The Techniques,
The New Christs,
Warsaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
Excepter,
Morten Harket,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Stiv Bators,
Rites of Spring,
Sällskapet,
Groovy Waters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deakin,
Fear,
Matthew Halsall,
The Monochrome Set,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Fraelich,
Prince Buster,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.