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 Albania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 Heaven 17 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Symarip,
K-Klass,
Lindisfarne,
Severed Heads,
Amon Düül II,
Wally Richardson,
the Sonics,
John Foxx,
Spandau Ballet,
T. Rex,
Suburban Knight,
Easy Going,
Procol Harum,
June Days,
Eurythmics,
Swell Maps,
Bronski Beat,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smoke,
La Düsseldorf,
Stetsasonic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Görl,
Rites of Spring,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Warsaw,
Iggy Pop,
Deakin,
Index,
Metal Thangz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fad Gadget,
Blake Baxter,
Buzzcocks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
Vainqueur,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Green,
the Association,
The Fall,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sound Behaviour,
Q and Not U,
Unrelated Segments,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Aaron Thompson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Accadde A,
Sister Nancy,
DJ Style,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Walker Brothers,
Audionom,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.