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 Cuba and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 The Vogues to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kas Product,
Mandrill,
New Age Steppers,
Franke,
Robert Hood,
Nils Olav,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul II Soul,
The Move,
Curtis Mayfield,
K-Klass,
Television Personalities,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Symarip,
Cluster,
Patti Smith,
Bill Near,
Thee Headcoats,
Tommy Roe,
a-ha,
the Slits,
Nik Kershaw,
The Kinks,
Hasil Adkins,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
Man Eating Sloth,
Make Up,
Cameo,
Agitation Free,
ABC,
Wasted Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
The Birthday Party,
Aural Exciters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Whodini,
The Raincoats,
LL Cool J,
June Days,
Liliput,
The Dave Clark Five,
Todd Terry,
Young Marble Giants,
Supertramp,
China Crisis,
Jacob Miller,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
The Victims,
Glambeats Corp.,
T. Rex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lightning Bolt,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minutemen,
Aswad,
Prince Buster,
Rufus Thomas,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.