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 Russia and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
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 clarinet 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 Jesper Dahlback to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Tom Boy,
Massinfluence,
Faraquet,
Guru Guru,
Flipper,
Bootsy Collins,
Jacques Brel,
The Martian,
Can,
Chrome,
Black Sheep,
Talk Talk,
Peter and Kerry,
Tropical Tobacco,
CMW,
The Zeros,
Average White Band,
Roxette,
The Litter,
Thompson Twins,
UT,
B.T. Express,
Delta 5,
Amon Düül,
Darondo,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
The Knickerbockers,
Lebanon Hanover,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crash Course in Science,
Deadbeat,
D'Angelo,
48th St. Collective,
R.M.O.,
The Gladiators,
Spoonie Gee,
Henry Cow,
David Bowie,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Womack,
Excepter,
Simply Red,
Quando Quango,
Icehouse,
Sixth Finger,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rapeman,
Flash Fearless,
X-102,
H. Thieme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Loose Ends,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.