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 Denmark and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 The Blackbyrds to the jazz 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Dave Gahan,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chris Corsano,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Green,
Joyce Sims,
Connie Case,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quantec,
Make Up,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy,
Massinfluence,
Scrapy,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Crash Course in Science,
Quando Quango,
Jacques Brel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dead Boys,
L. Decosne,
Lalann,
Essential Logic,
Dark Day,
Janne Schatter,
Suburban Knight,
Youth Brigade,
The Kinks,
The Doors,
Alton Ellis,
Blake Baxter,
EPMD,
Soft Machine,
Excepter,
Minny Pops,
Robert Hood,
Young Marble Giants,
Livin' Joy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Sheep,
Todd Terry,
Morten Harket,
X-102,
Ronan,
Grey Daturas,
Tears for Fears,
Index,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sight & Sound,
Kayak,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joensuu 1685,
Main Source,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.