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 Estonia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Lou Christie to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mandrill,
Blancmange,
Barrington Levy,
Symarip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Sonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fortunes,
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pharoah Sanders,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C,
Donny Hathaway,
Carl Craig,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Country Teasers,
Massinfluence,
Dead Boys,
Accadde A,
Dave Gahan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Joyce Sims,
The Gun Club,
Josef K,
Swell Maps,
Erykah Badu,
Boredoms,
Maleditus Sound,
X-102,
Eric Copeland,
X-101,
Pierre Henry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Golliwogs,
Nick Fraelich,
Q65,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Essential Logic,
Max Romeo,
The Blackbyrds,
Sällskapet,
The Monochrome Set,
New York Dolls,
Sonic Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Aloha Tigers,
FM Einheit,
Sight & Sound,
Can,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.