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 Netherlands and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kenny Larkin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Godley & Creme,
48th St. Collective,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Isaac Hayes,
Dark Day,
the Association,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Sherman,
Rakim,
The Real Kids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
Au Pairs,
Yusef Lateef,
Quadrant,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Animal Collective,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Remains,
Sexual Harrassment,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Glenn Branca,
ABBA,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vladislav Delay,
The Count Five,
Bill Wells,
The Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee,
Infiniti,
Henry Cow,
Mission of Burma,
Mad Mike,
The Evens,
Camouflage,
Trumans Water,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
Tubeway Army,
Wings,
The Vogues,
The Human League,
X-102,
Fluxion,
Suburban Knight,
The Slackers,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Womack,
Josef K,
Lungfish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.