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 Venezuela and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ralphi Rosario to the crunk 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin 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 rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Shoche,
The Knickerbockers,
Sound Behaviour,
The New Christs,
Curtis Mayfield,
U.S. Maple,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Gabor Szabo,
The Invisible,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Happenings,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sam Rivers,
Sixth Finger,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kayak,
Ultravox,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Holt,
MC5,
Brand Nubian,
Jeff Mills,
Danielle Patucci,
Aswad,
Morten Harket,
Janne Schatter,
Aural Exciters,
The Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Iggy Pop,
Pole,
Moss Icon,
Man Parrish,
Tres Demented,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Newcleus,
Arthur Verocai,
Erykah Badu,
Mars,
Surgeon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Halsall,
a-ha,
Goldenarms,
Sex Pistols,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Can,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Womack,
Delta 5,
Malaria!,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Andrew Hill,
Kerri Chandler,
Suicide,
Aloha Tigers,
X-Ray Spex,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.