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 Costa Rica and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Barry Ungar to the crunk 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee 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 disco 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
JFA,
Black Bananas,
Michelle Simonal,
The Stooges,
Bill Wells,
Alice Coltrane,
New Age Steppers,
Patti Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultimate Spinach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lightning Bolt,
Laurel Aitken,
D'Angelo,
Khruangbin,
Accadde A,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tim Buckley,
Saccharine Trust,
These Immortal Souls,
The J.B.'s,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wally Richardson,
Steve Hackett,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Newcleus,
The Saints,
EPMD,
Soul II Soul,
Crispian St. Peters,
Derrick May,
Rakim,
10cc,
Goldenarms,
Deepchord,
FM Einheit,
Surgeon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yazoo,
Masters at Work,
Bush Tetras,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
the Soft Cell,
Talk Talk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Association,
The Monochrome Set,
Minor Threat,
Chris & Cosey,
The United States of America,
Erasure,
The Grass Roots,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Lungfish,
The Last Poets,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.