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 Accra.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Gun Club to the funk 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Erykah Badu,
Brick,
Porter Ricks,
The Toasters,
The Seeds,
the Normal,
Carl Craig,
Idris Muhammad,
Ken Boothe,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Moon,
Freddie Wadling,
Visage,
Roger Hodgson,
Brand Nubian,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Blackbyrds,
Intrusion,
The Leaves,
Tropical Tobacco,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Juan Atkins,
Oneida,
John Holt,
Cameo,
Minnie Riperton,
Pet Shop Boys,
DJ Style,
The Standells,
Quando Quango,
Soulsonic Force,
Man Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Maleditus Sound,
Clear Light,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Joey Negro,
Derrick Morgan,
Cymande,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Derrick May,
Eric Copeland,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
The Sound,
Barrington Levy,
Make Up,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
L. Decosne,
Loose Ends,
The Invisible,
Camberwell Now,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.