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 Kyrgyzstan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Fat Boys,
Susan Cadogan,
Steve Hackett,
Desert Stars,
Ultra Naté,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Excepter,
Motorama,
Nils Olav,
JFA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Byron Stingily,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Q65,
Dual Sessions,
The Stooges,
PIL,
the Bar-Kays,
Letta Mbulu,
Blossom Toes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mandrill,
Kas Product,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Donny Hathaway,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Count Five,
Subhumans,
Donald Byrd,
The Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Magma,
Derrick May,
The Zeros,
The Birthday Party,
Radiohead,
The Dead C,
John Foxx,
Outsiders,
Eli Mardock,
Faraquet,
Neu!,
Morten Harket,
Easy Going,
Vladislav Delay,
Erykah Badu,
Cal Tjader,
The Neon Judgement,
Wire,
Prince Buster,
The Raincoats,
The Toasters,
Arcadia,
Dawn Penn,
the Normal,
Barry Ungar,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.