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 Jamaica and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the techno 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Stooges,
X-Ray Spex,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mojo Men,
Alison Limerick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Curtis Mayfield,
Prince Buster,
Sound Behaviour,
the Sonics,
Robert Hood,
Metal Thangz,
Michelle Simonal,
Duran Duran,
The Index,
The Durutti Column,
Amon Düül II,
The Trojans,
Derrick May,
Second Layer,
Scan 7,
Lungfish,
Visage,
Fatback Band,
the Germs,
Radiohead,
Make Up,
Peter and Kerry,
Chris Corsano,
Andrew Hill,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camberwell Now,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suburban Knight,
T. Rex,
Joyce Sims,
The Gun Club,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
AZ,
Pantytec,
Depeche Mode,
Ossler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yazoo,
Bobby Byrd,
cv313,
The Slits,
Moss Icon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fugazi,
Marc Almond,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Womack,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eurythmics,
Albert Ayler,
The Smoke,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.