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 Mali and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the rock 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Monolake,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Names,
Kaleidoscope,
Rites of Spring,
Moebius,
Marvin Gaye,
Andrew Hill,
Icehouse,
Quando Quango,
The Tremeloes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Foxx,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funkadelic,
La Düsseldorf,
Danielle Patucci,
ABBA,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Angry Samoans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Neil Young,
The Golliwogs,
Junior Murvin,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Evens,
Warren Ellis,
Shuggie Otis,
Pet Shop Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Aural Exciters,
Hot Snakes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dennis Brown,
Chrome,
10cc,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pylon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rufus Thomas,
Rotary Connection,
Siglo XX,
H. Thieme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Byrd,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bob Dylan,
Oblivians,
Suicide,
Fat Boys,
Make Up,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.