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 Mauritius and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gong to the crunk 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
The Real Kids,
Lungfish,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
The Skatalites,
Erasure,
Porter Ricks,
Bill Near,
Heaven 17,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pere Ubu,
John Holt,
Rufus Thomas,
The Index,
Alice Coltrane,
Nirvana,
The Seeds,
Eli Mardock,
T.S.O.L.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nils Olav,
Mr. Review,
Echospace,
Man Parrish,
Quadrant,
Frankie Knuckles,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Radiohead,
Q and Not U,
Sällskapet,
ABBA,
the Bar-Kays,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Surgeon,
Yellowson,
the Human League,
Warsaw,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scrapy,
X-101,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fat Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
Freddie Wadling,
Brick,
China Crisis,
The Count Five,
Index,
Rotary Connection,
Clear Light,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fad Gadget,
Theoretical Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.