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 Venezuela and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Lou Reed 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 Gang Starr to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bob Dylan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pulsallama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Chris Corsano,
Half Japanese,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Smiths,
Pole,
Guru Guru,
Rosa Yemen,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
Grauzone,
X-102,
Bad Manners,
Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Terry Callier,
The Star Department,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scientists,
Banda Bassotti,
Youth Brigade,
Ken Boothe,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Move,
Jacques Brel,
Skaos,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
Bootsy Collins,
The Invisible,
The Toasters,
Sonic Youth,
Deepchord,
Hardrive,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Peter and Kerry,
Easy Going,
The Human League,
Q65,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Adolescents,
The Index,
Technova,
Brothers Johnson,
Dennis Brown,
Faust,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Slackers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aloha Tigers,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
the Human League,
Eric Copeland,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Livin' Joy,
Mad Mike,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.