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 Mexico and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 harpsichord 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 The American Breed to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls 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?
Magma,
Minnie Riperton,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
The Black Dice,
Rotary Connection,
Spandau Ballet,
Barry Ungar,
Black Flag,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Tears for Fears,
The Searchers,
Slick Rick,
Max Romeo,
John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
Scratch Acid,
John Foxx,
The Zeros,
Kayak,
The Raincoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cameo,
Moebius,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Newcleus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Qualms,
Aswad,
Loose Ends,
Gichy Dan,
Public Enemy,
Laurel Aitken,
Oneida,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kerri Chandler,
Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
10cc,
AZ,
Gang Green,
Interpol,
Warsaw,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Y Pants,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
Steve Hackett,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fuzztones,
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.