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 Macedonia and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
48th St. Collective,
Terry Callier,
Albert Ayler,
Nils Olav,
Lyres,
Monks,
Marine Girls,
Aural Exciters,
Eli Mardock,
The Human League,
The Detroit Cobras,
Henry Cow,
the Sonics,
Altered Images,
Yusef Lateef,
FM Einheit,
Quantec,
Pere Ubu,
The Black Dice,
Cecil Taylor,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Grass Roots,
Rekid,
the Germs,
D'Angelo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantaleimon,
New Age Steppers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Pretty Things,
Dark Day,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pierre Henry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tim Buckley,
Stiv Bators,
Flipper,
Q and Not U,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
Tom Boy,
the Swans,
The Toasters,
The Young Rascals,
Gerry Rafferty,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Vogues,
Eden Ahbez,
Babytalk,
The Doors,
A Certain Ratio,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Barracudas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roger Hodgson,
Bill Near,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.