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 Somalia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Yazoo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
The Cure,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Man Parrish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Anakelly,
Laurel Aitken,
Symarip,
the Bar-Kays,
The Happenings,
Stetsasonic,
Pierre Henry,
Cheater Slicks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q and Not U,
Infiniti,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Qualms,
Dark Day,
The Smoke,
Robert Görl,
The Evens,
Avey Tare,
Kurtis Blow,
Rosa Yemen,
ABBA,
Unrelated Segments,
Delta 5,
The Fall,
The Residents,
PIL,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ossler,
Kayak,
Warren Ellis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Knickerbockers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Amazonics,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Bobby Sherman,
Joe Finger,
New York Dolls,
Peter and Kerry,
The Names,
Magma,
Tubeway Army,
The Toasters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Birthday Party,
Nation of Ulysses,
It's A Beautiful Day,
In Retrospect,
Oneida,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wasted Youth,
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.