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 Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Barry Ungar to the grunge 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
The Five Americans,
Nico,
E-Dancer,
Chrome,
Alphaville,
Scientists,
The Happenings,
Lalann,
The Cowsills,
Mark Hollis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Fania All-Stars,
Whodini,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eurythmics,
Michelle Simonal,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Cramps,
Amon Düül II,
Crooked Eye,
Simply Red,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Circle Jerks,
Shoche,
The Barracudas,
James White and The Blacks,
10cc,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ronan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mantronix,
Lee Hazlewood,
Khruangbin,
Lyres,
Anthony Braxton,
Max Romeo,
Skaos,
Animal Collective,
Parry Music,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warsaw,
Hardrive,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
The Trojans,
The Sonics,
Index,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
L. Decosne,
Howard Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Young Rascals,
the Slits,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.