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 Philippines and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 PIL to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler 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?
The Shadows of Knight,
Crooked Eye,
The Smoke,
The Black Dice,
June of 44,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Doobie Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
Essential Logic,
Qualms,
Blake Baxter,
Chris Corsano,
The Litter,
Gerry Rafferty,
Glambeats Corp.,
Toni Rubio,
The Fuzztones,
The Residents,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Maurizio,
David Bowie,
Tomorrow,
Black Bananas,
Q65,
Faraquet,
the Human League,
ABC,
Alice Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
Harmonia,
X-102,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ronan,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
Fat Boys,
Half Japanese,
Inner City,
Lightning Bolt,
Suburban Knight,
Nick Fraelich,
Bluetip,
Royal Trux,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Severed Heads,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Starr,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacques Brel,
The Busters,
B.T. Express,
Little Man,
Pantaleimon,
The Smiths,
Carl Craig,
Robert Görl,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rod Modell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.