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 Burkina and from London.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 John Holt to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Index,
Theoretical Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang of Four,
Silicon Teens,
Gabor Szabo,
H. Thieme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nils Olav,
Ice-T,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Black Dice,
Gong,
Nick Fraelich,
Dead Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
James White and The Blacks,
The Vogues,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry's Kids,
The Martian,
The Fuzztones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pierre Henry,
Sight & Sound,
Radiohead,
The Victims,
The Gun Club,
The Star Department,
Charles Mingus,
The Sound,
Section 25,
Lou Reed,
Scratch Acid,
Drexciya,
Flash Fearless,
Infiniti,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Animal Collective,
Brick,
Robert Hood,
Sarah Menescal,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Zeros,
Slave,
The Doors,
Arab on Radar,
Von Mondo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alton Ellis,
Lower 48,
Fatback Band,
The Smoke,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.