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 Finland and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin 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 The Trojans to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
The Associates,
Joe Finger,
Marmalade,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minny Pops,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lindisfarne,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rakim,
Subhumans,
H. Thieme,
The Doobie Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rapeman,
Todd Rundgren,
Underground Resistance,
Gabor Szabo,
Intrusion,
The Vogues,
Public Enemy,
Tomorrow,
Ultra Naté,
Yellowson,
Scan 7,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Khruangbin,
K-Klass,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cheater Slicks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Supertramp,
Can,
Ludus,
Oneida,
The Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Quando Quango,
The Dirtbombs,
Q65,
Deakin,
The Electric Prunes,
Don Cherry,
Sex Pistols,
Jawbox,
Roxette,
Altered Images,
Agitation Free,
Aloha Tigers,
June of 44,
Mad Mike,
Y Pants,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soft Cell,
Eli Mardock,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Bananas,
These Immortal Souls,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.