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 Malaysia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 David Bowie 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Lou Christie,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris Corsano,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
James White and The Blacks,
Index,
Royal Trux,
Mad Mike,
Bobby Womack,
Brass Construction,
Symarip,
The Move,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
Maleditus Sound,
Mr. Review,
the Human League,
The Durutti Column,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
The Fall,
The Tremeloes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
One Last Wish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Matthew Halsall,
Inner City,
Suburban Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
Black Sheep,
Graham Central Station,
Supertramp,
The Cowsills,
10cc,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Minny Pops,
X-101,
Faraquet,
The Angels of Light,
the Association,
Andrew Hill,
Neil Young,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sonics,
Ludus,
OOIOO,
Yellowson,
Fela Kuti,
The United States of America,
Severed Heads,
Al Stewart,
Ituana,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.