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 Egypt and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Wings to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Max Romeo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bad Manners,
Donald Byrd,
Gong,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slits,
Excepter,
Lower 48,
Faust,
Bobby Womack,
Half Japanese,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lucky Dragons,
Josef K,
Quando Quango,
Guru Guru,
Todd Terry,
Eve St. Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Starr,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Saints,
Archie Shepp,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sex Pistols,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Misunderstood,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
One Last Wish,
Amazonics,
Gang Green,
Absolute Body Control,
The Gap Band,
Tres Demented,
The Black Dice,
Amon Düül,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jerry's Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Sneak,
Nas,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Hood,
Fugazi,
JFA,
The Red Krayola,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fear,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Skriet,
Grey Daturas,
Bill Wells,
The Toasters,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.