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 Denmark and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the rap 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
Arab on Radar,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeff Mills,
The Gun Club,
Rod Modell,
Sällskapet,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Tears for Fears,
Black Bananas,
The Sonics,
The Black Dice,
Ultimate Spinach,
Skaos,
The Cowsills,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rites of Spring,
Toni Rubio,
Michelle Simonal,
Mars,
Yusef Lateef,
Rufus Thomas,
Terry Callier,
Y Pants,
DJ Style,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aloha Tigers,
New Age Steppers,
Arthur Verocai,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Christie,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Misunderstood,
Ronnie Foster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Panda Bear,
Hashim,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q and Not U,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Tim Buckley,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dark Day,
The Durutti Column,
Neu!,
The J.B.'s,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Sneak,
Eve St. Jones,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joyce Sims,
Crime,
Model 500,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.