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 Austria and from Tokyo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Boredoms,
Pere Ubu,
The Pop Group,
Mandrill,
Supertramp,
Trumans Water,
The Cure,
Man Parrish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Monolake,
Radiohead,
the Swans,
Reagan Youth,
Jawbox,
Nation of Ulysses,
CMW,
Siglo XX,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ultravox,
Judy Mowatt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pole,
Yellowson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dead Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Grauzone,
Terrestrial Tones,
Absolute Body Control,
Spandau Ballet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Peter & Gordon,
Josef K,
R.M.O.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Charles Mingus,
Nas,
Angry Samoans,
Terry Callier,
John Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
MC5,
The Buckinghams,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hasil Adkins,
Janne Schatter,
Ten City,
a-ha,
John Lydon,
The Blackbyrds,
Thee Headcoats,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fugazi,
Kas Product,
Surgeon,
ABC,
Lee Hazlewood,
Groovy Waters,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.