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 Slovakia and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Organ to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Womack,
Soul II Soul,
Talk Talk,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wasted Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
Grey Daturas,
Accadde A,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ituana,
The Moleskins,
Marine Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Pagans,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Fraelich,
Mad Mike,
Cameo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlback,
Funky Four + One,
Lalann,
DNA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Reuben Wilson,
Siglo XX,
The Index,
The Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
The Residents,
Isaac Hayes,
Neil Young,
Pussy Galore,
Jacques Brel,
E-Dancer,
Porter Ricks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
R.M.O.,
LL Cool J,
The Music Machine,
Sparks,
The Star Department,
New Age Steppers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radiopuhelimet,
Blake Baxter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dead Boys,
The Slackers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eurythmics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stereo Dub,
The Invisible,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.