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 Panama and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the jazz 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Kerrie Biddell,
Au Pairs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Görl,
The Motions,
Jerry's Kids,
Wire,
The Fuzztones,
Janne Schatter,
Ken Boothe,
Matthew Halsall,
Letta Mbulu,
Bronski Beat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mars,
John Cale,
Dead Boys,
X-101,
Grey Daturas,
Danielle Patucci,
Eli Mardock,
Inner City,
New Order,
Scan 7,
Tom Boy,
Whodini,
Sällskapet,
These Immortal Souls,
Outsiders,
This Heat,
the Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Schoolly D,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ossler,
Erasure,
The Slits,
Half Japanese,
ABBA,
Rosa Yemen,
Blancmange,
Suicide,
JFA,
Joe Finger,
Lucky Dragons,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Velvet Underground,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Morten Harket,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deakin,
Brass Construction,
U.S. Maple,
Juan Atkins,
Scott Walker,
The Modern Lovers,
Man Parrish,
Soft Cell,
Lower 48,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.