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 Montenegro and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Silicon Teens to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
EPMD,
James White and The Blacks,
Guru Guru,
Absolute Body Control,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Porter Ricks,
Electric Prunes,
Minor Threat,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Pretty Things,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Magazine,
Bauhaus,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Association,
B.T. Express,
Prince Buster,
Liliput,
the Normal,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fear,
Siglo XX,
Man Parrish,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tres Demented,
Iggy Pop,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U,
The Monks,
Carl Craig,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Foxx,
Wally Richardson,
Roxy Music,
Agitation Free,
The Index,
Yusef Lateef,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Hoover,
D'Angelo,
Eric Dolphy,
Minnie Riperton,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Hasil Adkins,
Smog,
Mad Mike,
Glenn Branca,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lebanon Hanover,
Intrusion,
The Moody Blues,
Pharoah Sanders,
Isaac Hayes,
Albert Ayler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Searchers,
The Fugs,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.