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 Somalia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ice-T,
Altered Images,
Suicide,
X-101,
Gong,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Skatalites,
Man Parrish,
Joe Finger,
Icehouse,
Quando Quango,
Loose Ends,
Ten City,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Association,
Ken Boothe,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Reed,
Jawbox,
Dorothy Ashby,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sandy B,
The Invisible,
The Blackbyrds,
The Stooges,
Camouflage,
Eurythmics,
Ultravox,
The Sound,
Steve Hackett,
The Dead C,
Rod Modell,
Laurel Aitken,
Stetsasonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cramps,
Dual Sessions,
Bauhaus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sun City Girls,
Al Stewart,
Organ,
K-Klass,
Iggy Pop,
Livin' Joy,
The Barracudas,
Q65,
Tim Buckley,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare,
The Black Dice,
The Fugs,
Section 25,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Sherman,
Warsaw,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.