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 the UAE and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Zapp to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Black Sheep,
H. Thieme,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Funkadelic,
Barry Ungar,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Zeros,
Lakeside,
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry's Kids,
Fat Boys,
Skaos,
The Offenders,
Grey Daturas,
the Bar-Kays,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Maurizio,
Ossler,
Wasted Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
Malaria!,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
ABC,
Harmonia,
Max Romeo,
Procol Harum,
Little Man,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mr. Review,
Model 500,
Iggy Pop,
Chris Corsano,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Depeche Mode,
Fugazi,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Halsall,
David Axelrod,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sparks,
Minnie Riperton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Surgeon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Red Krayola,
Jandek,
The Smoke,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Josef K,
Robert Hood,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.