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 Maldives and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 the Slits to the dance 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Durutti Column,
Ten City,
New York Dolls,
Procol Harum,
The Music Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
La Düsseldorf,
The Stooges,
Big Daddy Kane,
Livin' Joy,
Yazoo,
Television Personalities,
Sister Nancy,
Moebius,
Ultra Naté,
Supertramp,
Crime,
X-101,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
MDC,
Gerry Rafferty,
London Community Gospel Choir,
FM Einheit,
Scion,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Near,
Minor Threat,
Jerry's Kids,
Trumans Water,
Wasted Youth,
Nirvana,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hardrive,
Monks,
Basic Channel,
Heaven 17,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gories,
The Martian,
Von Mondo,
The Divine Comedy,
Roxy Music,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deakin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
New Order,
Leonard Cohen,
48th St. Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crooked Eye,
Faraquet,
Joey Negro,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Don Cherry,
Subhumans,
Mark Hollis,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.