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 Liechtenstein and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Holger Czukay 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 Red Krayola to the grunge 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Scratch Acid,
Rekid,
Ituana,
Angry Samoans,
The Blues Magoos,
David Bowie,
Section 25,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Gang Dance,
A Certain Ratio,
Banda Bassotti,
Jeru the Damaja,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Avey Tare,
Country Teasers,
The Divine Comedy,
Infiniti,
The Moleskins,
Donald Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Monks,
Outsiders,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacques Brel,
Susan Cadogan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smoke,
Clear Light,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
Los Fastidios,
The Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lindisfarne,
David Axelrod,
Terry Callier,
Rakim,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
Youth Brigade,
Black Moon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sällskapet,
Mad Mike,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Easy Going,
Gabor Szabo,
Letta Mbulu,
The Slackers,
Pagans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wolf Eyes,
Animal Collective,
The Flesh Eaters,
FM Einheit,
Max Romeo,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.