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 Antigua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 X-101 to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Unrelated Segments,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fugs,
Eli Mardock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill,
Lyres,
Joey Negro,
Jimmy McGriff,
Anthony Braxton,
The New Christs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Althea and Donna,
The Standells,
Groovy Waters,
Pulsallama,
Grandmaster Flash,
Yellowson,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers,
Ohio Players,
Bluetip,
Neil Young,
Crispy Ambulance,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donald Byrd,
Inner City,
Rod Modell,
Con Funk Shun,
Schoolly D,
Grey Daturas,
The Fuzztones,
Ludus,
Bob Dylan,
Kas Product,
Minor Threat,
Tim Buckley,
Electric Prunes,
Parry Music,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Christie,
The Dead C,
The Seeds,
Visage,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arab on Radar,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.