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 Nauru and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 Mars to the grunge 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Mark Hollis,
The Birthday Party,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rekid,
Bill Near,
Rotary Connection,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Andrew Hill,
Country Teasers,
Boredoms,
Funky Four + One,
Gastr Del Sol,
Michelle Simonal,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Womack,
Qualms,
X-102,
Yazoo,
Public Enemy,
Wasted Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Anthony Braxton,
The Leaves,
Porter Ricks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Howard Jones,
Lindisfarne,
Sister Nancy,
Thee Headcoats,
Skriet,
Q and Not U,
Neu!,
The Shadows of Knight,
Shoche,
DNA,
E-Dancer,
The Star Department,
Lightning Bolt,
Nik Kershaw,
Johnny Clarke,
FM Einheit,
Bronski Beat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bad Manners,
This Heat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantaleimon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bob Dylan,
Nico,
Clear Light,
Wally Richardson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Funkadelic,
The Skatalites,
Pere Ubu,
Interpol,
Mantronix,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.