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 Nepal and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Byron Stingily to the rap 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Barracudas,
Sandy B,
Marmalade,
Tres Demented,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeru the Damaja,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Kinks,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Public Enemy,
Gang Starr,
Ten City,
Parry Music,
Mo-Dettes,
Sun City Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Boredoms,
Absolute Body Control,
Average White Band,
Anakelly,
Silicon Teens,
The Real Kids,
Skaos,
Wasted Youth,
Youth Brigade,
Television,
The Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gichy Dan,
The Busters,
Lou Reed,
Supertramp,
Maurizio,
Agent Orange,
Cecil Taylor,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Magma,
Radiohead,
June of 44,
H. Thieme,
Ultra Naté,
The Music Machine,
The Residents,
Interpol,
The New Christs,
Inner City,
Quando Quango,
The Saints,
Scion,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
Nas,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.