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 Hungary and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Drive Like Jehu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Excepter,
Donny Hathaway,
The Techniques,
Rufus Thomas,
Mantronix,
Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quantec,
The Evens,
Anakelly,
Soul II Soul,
The Monochrome Set,
ABC,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sight & Sound,
Livin' Joy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Absolute Body Control,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana,
Gichy Dan,
Von Mondo,
Harmonia,
Pole,
The Fortunes,
The Tremeloes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Letta Mbulu,
Albert Ayler,
Lalo Schifrin,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
Sam Rivers,
Boz Scaggs,
Wire,
Camouflage,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxy Music,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Al Stewart,
Rekid,
the Normal,
the Association,
The Pretty Things,
Bang On A Can,
Wolf Eyes,
Bauhaus,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Howard Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kayak,
The Motions,
Juan Atkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Electric Prunes,
Danielle Patucci,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.