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 Switzerland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slits,
Radio Birdman,
Mantronix,
Bang On A Can,
Gregory Isaacs,
Slave,
Jesper Dahlback,
Johnny Clarke,
Yazoo,
Piero Umiliani,
the Bar-Kays,
the Normal,
Echospace,
Silicon Teens,
Black Sheep,
Sam Rivers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Model 500,
Magazine,
Talk Talk,
Yellowson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gong,
a-ha,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dead C,
the Soft Cell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
Make Up,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Q65,
Bootsy Collins,
The Monks,
Chrome,
Dual Sessions,
The Durutti Column,
Half Japanese,
Popol Vuh,
Donny Hathaway,
Mission of Burma,
The Fall,
OOIOO,
Tim Buckley,
Ohio Players,
Suicide,
B.T. Express,
L. Decosne,
Maurizio,
Amazonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
June Days,
Babytalk,
Thompson Twins,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.