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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Tim Buckley to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
Tommy Roe,
Schoolly D,
Mars,
Scan 7,
The Sonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Franke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Bananas,
The Gladiators,
The Beau Brummels,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gun Club,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Moody Blues,
The Stooges,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fad Gadget,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Mojo Men,
Theoretical Girls,
Janne Schatter,
Shoche,
This Heat,
Joensuu 1685,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Bar-Kays,
Letta Mbulu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Y Pants,
Derrick Morgan,
Blake Baxter,
Reagan Youth,
Deepchord,
Be Bop Deluxe,
AZ,
Davy DMX,
Flipper,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yaz,
Wings,
Bobby Womack,
Bob Dylan,
Harry Pussy,
Fatback Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Country Teasers,
Rapeman,
Colin Newman,
Black Moon,
Los Fastidios,
Sonic Youth,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.