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 Armenia and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lou Reed to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
The American Breed,
Reuben Wilson,
The Five Americans,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doobie Brothers,
Animal Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Barrington Levy,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
Altered Images,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lucky Dragons,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Darondo,
Susan Cadogan,
Technova,
New York Dolls,
The Human League,
Swans,
X-101,
Tomorrow,
Siglo XX,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
Mo-Dettes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rosa Yemen,
Terry Callier,
Nas,
Oneida,
the Swans,
DNA,
Newcleus,
John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Maurizio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Qualms,
The Residents,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
Shoche,
Matthew Halsall,
Todd Terry,
Babytalk,
Toni Rubio,
Gang Starr,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
Mark Hollis,
KRS-One,
The Music Machine,
Little Man,
Spandau Ballet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
The Blues Magoos,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deakin,
Alice Coltrane,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.