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 Sierra Leone and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Beijing.
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 guitar 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 Derrick May to the punk 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Yellowson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bauhaus,
Bang On A Can,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alton Ellis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Heaven 17,
Ituana,
10cc,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Birthday Party,
Black Pus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Robert Görl,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Barracudas,
Liliput,
Brass Construction,
Gang of Four,
Roger Hodgson,
John Coltrane,
Scratch Acid,
The Martian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Amazonics,
Morten Harket,
Crooked Eye,
the Normal,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ohio Players,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills,
Tom Boy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Smog,
Oblivians,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Selecter,
Pagans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Happenings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Television Personalities,
Tres Demented,
Dennis Brown,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.