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 Tajikistan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Davy DMX to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Nik Kershaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
Stiv Bators,
Soul II Soul,
Smog,
Procol Harum,
CMW,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fall,
Blake Baxter,
The Mummies,
Anakelly,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lalann,
Stereo Dub,
Jerry's Kids,
Godley & Creme,
Shuggie Otis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter & Gordon,
New Age Steppers,
New York Dolls,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav,
Scott Walker,
The Knickerbockers,
Hasil Adkins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Leaves,
The Count Five,
Zero Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
The Five Americans,
Ludus,
the Association,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camberwell Now,
The Remains,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slave,
Das Ding,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Inner City,
Glambeats Corp.,
Urselle,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Toasters,
Television,
Harry Pussy,
John Coltrane,
Television Personalities,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.