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 Switzerland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 DJ Style to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
Soft Machine,
Basic Channel,
Flipper,
Scion,
the Germs,
Model 500,
Blancmange,
Idris Muhammad,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Underground Resistance,
Pierre Henry,
Eli Mardock,
The Leaves,
The Raincoats,
Blossom Toes,
Symarip,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Unwound,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
John Coltrane,
The Residents,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gabor Szabo,
the Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deakin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Davy DMX,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fortunes,
Y Pants,
Bobby Sherman,
Subhumans,
Sam Rivers,
Don Cherry,
Jandek,
Altered Images,
Roxy Music,
Marmalade,
Excepter,
Bad Manners,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aswad,
Delon & Dalcan,
ABBA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mars,
Bill Wells,
Gang Green,
Silicon Teens,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pulsallama,
The Move,
The Evens,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.