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 Iran and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Monks to the disco 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barry Ungar,
Slick Rick,
Fluxion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Theoretical Girls,
The Misunderstood,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Knickerbockers,
Thompson Twins,
The Birthday Party,
The Electric Prunes,
UT,
The Searchers,
Cal Tjader,
Au Pairs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Whodini,
Faraquet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masters at Work,
Bluetip,
New Order,
Pussy Galore,
K-Klass,
Davy DMX,
Wasted Youth,
Slave,
48th St. Collective,
The Pretty Things,
Absolute Body Control,
Glenn Branca,
A Certain Ratio,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Outsiders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soul II Soul,
Oneida,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Foxx,
Gang Green,
Japan,
Sam Rivers,
EPMD,
Alton Ellis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Sonics,
Main Source,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
Fatback Band,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.