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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 David Bowie to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
This Heat,
Yusef Lateef,
Arcadia,
The Count Five,
The Human League,
Scan 7,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cybotron,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eli Mardock,
Mars,
Porter Ricks,
The Monks,
Hot Snakes,
Harry Pussy,
Deakin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Funkadelic,
The Motions,
The Five Americans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gong,
The Dirtbombs,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Green,
Dead Boys,
Organ,
Swans,
Jawbox,
T.S.O.L.,
Skaos,
Quadrant,
ABBA,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yellowson,
The Beau Brummels,
Danielle Patucci,
Pierre Henry,
Sandy B,
Cameo,
World's Most,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Angels of Light,
Scratch Acid,
Television,
Frankie Knuckles,
Anakelly,
Traffic Nightmare,
Archie Shepp,
The Associates,
Flash Fearless,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kurtis Blow,
MC5,
Althea and Donna,
Symarip,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.