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 Cambodia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Holger Czukay 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 Inner City 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Albert Ayler,
Banda Bassotti,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter and Kerry,
The Young Rascals,
Panda Bear,
The Gladiators,
Marmalade,
48th St. Collective,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
Babytalk,
LL Cool J,
Jeru the Damaja,
Parry Music,
Bobby Sherman,
Ken Boothe,
Minor Threat,
Rosa Yemen,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kayak,
Gang of Four,
The Zeros,
John Cale,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erasure,
10cc,
June Days,
Black Moon,
Kerrie Biddell,
H. Thieme,
Juan Atkins,
The Neon Judgement,
Kaleidoscope,
Terry Callier,
Lakeside,
DNA,
Brass Construction,
The Gun Club,
Mary Jane Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
E-Dancer,
Television Personalities,
Slave,
Byron Stingily,
Procol Harum,
Steve Hackett,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Archie Shepp,
Animal Collective,
The Divine Comedy,
Yazoo,
the Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Outsiders,
Eddi Front,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.