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 Eritrea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Depeche Mode to the rap 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
The Motions,
The Sonics,
Black Moon,
Absolute Body Control,
Tim Buckley,
Quantec,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dead C,
Basic Channel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fela Kuti,
8 Eyed Spy,
The United States of America,
Franke,
Q65,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Almond,
The Wake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Vogues,
Parry Music,
Chrome,
The American Breed,
The Knickerbockers,
D'Angelo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aural Exciters,
the Fania All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mark Hollis,
Unrelated Segments,
Dave Gahan,
The Dirtbombs,
The Velvet Underground,
Blossom Toes,
The Cowsills,
Kerri Chandler,
Infiniti,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kas Product,
Loose Ends,
Gang Starr,
Todd Terry,
Gang Green,
ABC,
Pet Shop Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mad Mike,
China Crisis,
Suicide,
Pere Ubu,
Sun City Girls,
David Axelrod,
Model 500,
The Slackers,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.