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 Kazakhstan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Michael McDonald 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 Laurel Aitken to the punk 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Index,
Fatback Band,
The Last Poets,
The Vogues,
Faraquet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eli Mardock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Womack,
Grey Daturas,
Gang Starr,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fela Kuti,
Gastr Del Sol,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Moody Blues,
The Doors,
the Human League,
Dave Gahan,
Ronan,
Connie Case,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lebanon Hanover,
Half Japanese,
Yazoo,
Funkadelic,
David Bowie,
Robert Görl,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
June of 44,
The Slits,
The Moleskins,
Siglo XX,
Ice-T,
Wings,
Black Sheep,
Rhythm & Sound,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
Cecil Taylor,
Basic Channel,
Wolf Eyes,
Fat Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Maurizio,
The Walker Brothers,
Vainqueur,
La Düsseldorf,
The Buckinghams,
Mantronix,
The Sound,
MDC,
Procol Harum,
the Fania All-Stars,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.