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 Angola and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rekid to the crunk 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Black Flag,
Ossler,
Joe Finger,
the Normal,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Television,
Guru Guru,
Sparks,
Babytalk,
Parry Music,
Lalann,
Con Funk Shun,
Smog,
Sandy B,
The Fugs,
Jeff Lynne,
Ohio Players,
Outsiders,
Blake Baxter,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Christie,
Agent Orange,
Susan Cadogan,
Tomorrow,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mantronix,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
Nirvana,
10cc,
Brothers Johnson,
Fear,
Unrelated Segments,
Swans,
Second Layer,
The Angels of Light,
Surgeon,
Inner City,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Wings,
The Kinks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maurizio,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Bronski Beat,
The Barracudas,
Pantaleimon,
Khruangbin,
Jandek,
Make Up,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Pretty Things,
Eddi Front,
The Selecter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hot Snakes,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.