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 Morocco and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brothers Johnson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
MC5,
Althea and Donna,
The Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Maleditus Sound,
Yellowson,
Scratch Acid,
Drexciya,
Big Daddy Kane,
Basic Channel,
Thee Headcoats,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Christie,
Franke,
Blossom Toes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gerry Rafferty,
This Heat,
D'Angelo,
Tears for Fears,
Jawbox,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mark Hollis,
Nik Kershaw,
Newcleus,
Hoover,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cure,
The Cowsills,
Anthony Braxton,
Silicon Teens,
Section 25,
Ultravox,
Black Moon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bill Near,
The Blues Magoos,
Unrelated Segments,
John Foxx,
Zero Boys,
Man Parrish,
The Slackers,
Peter and Kerry,
AZ,
Gastr Del Sol,
Motorama,
Mission of Burma,
The Fuzztones,
Donald Byrd,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Arab on Radar,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The American Breed,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Clear Light,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.