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 Ghana and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer 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 Maleditus Sound to the grunge 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
LL Cool J,
The Divine Comedy,
Arab on Radar,
Black Flag,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
Infiniti,
Talk Talk,
Junior Murvin,
Subhumans,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Sherman,
Stockholm Monsters,
The American Breed,
Easy Going,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yusef Lateef,
The Standells,
Moebius,
Roy Ayers,
June of 44,
Deakin,
John Cale,
Television,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABBA,
T. Rex,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Steve Hackett,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dawn Penn,
Grauzone,
Bang On A Can,
Radiohead,
Neu!,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Tremeloes,
Tubeway Army,
Andrew Hill,
Sex Pistols,
Animal Collective,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Star Department,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Zeros,
Ponytail,
Godley & Creme,
Public Enemy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
Eric Dolphy,
Barrington Levy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skarface,
Gong,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.