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 Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer 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 K-Klass 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Easy Going,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Görl,
Mr. Review,
The Five Americans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Main Source,
Hoover,
Surgeon,
Inner City,
Judy Mowatt,
Sixth Finger,
Metal Thangz,
Prince Buster,
Rekid,
Funkadelic,
Ice-T,
Ronan,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne,
Pantaleimon,
The Neon Judgement,
Todd Terry,
Can,
Alison Limerick,
Bad Manners,
Max Romeo,
Sparks,
Silicon Teens,
China Crisis,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
Ornette Coleman,
Erykah Badu,
Absolute Body Control,
Piero Umiliani,
the Bar-Kays,
The Human League,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Lydon,
Newcleus,
Robert Wyatt,
Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
David McCallum,
Public Image Ltd.,
Erasure,
Lower 48,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ituana,
Stetsasonic,
Pagans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Sheep,
Charles Mingus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joyce Sims,
Agent Orange,
Black Flag,
Scott Walker,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.