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 Somalia and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Guru Guru to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
The Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Youth Brigade,
The Alarm Clocks,
T.S.O.L.,
Pulsallama,
The Saints,
Japan,
Leonard Cohen,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
Lou Reed,
A Certain Ratio,
Circle Jerks,
The Real Kids,
The Red Krayola,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultravox,
Judy Mowatt,
Saccharine Trust,
Warsaw,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
T. Rex,
Country Teasers,
Oblivians,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Knickerbockers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Sonics,
Colin Newman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pierre Henry,
K-Klass,
the Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
Nick Fraelich,
Max Romeo,
Livin' Joy,
AZ,
Eli Mardock,
UT,
Lindisfarne,
Alphaville,
Bill Near,
Man Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Hashim,
OOIOO,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
Liliput,
Rod Modell,
Chris & Cosey,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brass Construction,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
The Golliwogs,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.