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 Saudi Arabia and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dorothy Ashby to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
the Swans,
Don Cherry,
Make Up,
Agitation Free,
The Leaves,
Scratch Acid,
Trumans Water,
Amon Düül,
Ten City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Procol Harum,
Depeche Mode,
Mad Mike,
The Names,
Tres Demented,
Barrington Levy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Minor Threat,
Slave,
Warsaw,
Stereo Dub,
Michelle Simonal,
Cheater Slicks,
Zero Boys,
Soft Cell,
Adolescents,
X-Ray Spex,
In Retrospect,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
B.T. Express,
Swell Maps,
Arcadia,
Radiohead,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Clarke,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joey Negro,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Martian,
David Axelrod,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monolake,
The Misunderstood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gories,
Sight & Sound,
F. McDonald,
ABC,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Zapp,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Con Funk Shun,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
The Moody Blues,
Barbara Tucker,
Lucky Dragons,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.