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 Afghanistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 a-ha to the crunk 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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
X-Ray Spex,
Quantec,
Matthew Bourne,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pantaleimon,
Inner City,
The Fuzztones,
Isaac Hayes,
Visage,
Lightning Bolt,
The Standells,
Gichy Dan,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Wake,
Ituana,
Aswad,
Thee Headcoats,
Charles Mingus,
Little Man,
The Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Ponytail,
Lungfish,
Avey Tare,
Harpers Bizarre,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Whodini,
Procol Harum,
Scan 7,
Nick Fraelich,
Althea and Donna,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerri Chandler,
Mission of Burma,
Nirvana,
The Flesh Eaters,
Unrelated Segments,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Excepter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joey Negro,
Vainqueur,
Todd Terry,
Dead Boys,
Neu!,
Reuben Wilson,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Offenders,
U.S. Maple,
Toni Rubio,
the Normal,
La Düsseldorf,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.