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 Montenegro and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Lou Reed 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Zero Boys,
June Days,
Rekid,
U.S. Maple,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
KRS-One,
Lou Christie,
Cheater Slicks,
Big Daddy Kane,
CMW,
The Kinks,
Dual Sessions,
The Velvet Underground,
Andrew Hill,
Peter and Kerry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sun Ra,
Thee Headcoats,
The Durutti Column,
a-ha,
Scientists,
The Cowsills,
Steve Hackett,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Porter Ricks,
ABC,
The Count Five,
Black Flag,
Laurel Aitken,
Gregory Isaacs,
Deakin,
Alison Limerick,
Josef K,
Vainqueur,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sight & Sound,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy Collins,
The Index,
The Sound,
Carl Craig,
The Smoke,
John Holt,
Wire,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gun Club,
Sparks,
Hardrive,
Animal Collective,
Gang Starr,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June of 44,
Rhythm & Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Danielle Patucci,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Pus,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.