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 Slovenia and from Shanghai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Surgeon,
Sun City Girls,
Zapp,
Jeff Mills,
Eden Ahbez,
Whodini,
Buzzcocks,
T. Rex,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Smog,
June Days,
The Techniques,
MC5,
Vladislav Delay,
AZ,
Bronski Beat,
Matthew Halsall,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Sherman,
Motorama,
John Cale,
Harry Pussy,
Iggy Pop,
Masters at Work,
Jimmy McGriff,
Heaven 17,
Al Stewart,
Kerrie Biddell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Dolphy,
Basic Channel,
Deadbeat,
Crooked Eye,
Ohio Players,
The Standells,
Depeche Mode,
The Music Machine,
H. Thieme,
Boz Scaggs,
Hot Snakes,
Mantronix,
Visage,
Pagans,
A Certain Ratio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sexual Harrassment,
Absolute Body Control,
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama,
Mars,
Audionom,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Swans,
Bill Wells,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.