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 Morocco and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chris & Cosey to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Severed Heads,
Juan Atkins,
Al Stewart,
Donald Byrd,
Rakim,
Bad Manners,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Liliput,
Subhumans,
China Crisis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sällskapet,
Blossom Toes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Suicide,
Young Marble Giants,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Todd Terry,
The Motions,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bang On A Can,
Eden Ahbez,
Easy Going,
Supertramp,
Flash Fearless,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barbara Tucker,
Bluetip,
Saccharine Trust,
Cal Tjader,
Make Up,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eli Mardock,
The Cramps,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scion,
Kerrie Biddell,
New York Dolls,
Roger Hodgson,
The Durutti Column,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ice-T,
The Index,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hashim,
Ohio Players,
Boz Scaggs,
The Star Department,
The Black Dice,
David McCallum,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
Banda Bassotti,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.