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 Panama and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 Wings to the techno 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Gichy Dan,
Sam Rivers,
The Count Five,
Qualms,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crime,
Bush Tetras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Danielle Patucci,
The Misunderstood,
La Düsseldorf,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lightning Bolt,
Clear Light,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang of Four,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erasure,
The Mummies,
Malaria!,
The Black Dice,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tomorrow,
Minutemen,
Boredoms,
Wasted Youth,
FM Einheit,
Yazoo,
Animal Collective,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
F. McDonald,
John Holt,
Ten City,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Quando Quango,
Pantytec,
Ituana,
Crooked Eye,
The Pop Group,
Alton Ellis,
Pylon,
Make Up,
Lebanon Hanover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Drive Like Jehu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Supertramp,
Derrick May,
the Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
Basic Channel,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
The Wake,
Tres Demented,
New Age Steppers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Sheep,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.