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 Moldova and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Leonard Cohen to the electroclash 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Dark Day,
Alice Coltrane,
Hoover,
David Axelrod,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Stetsasonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Supertramp,
Aural Exciters,
The Slits,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sparks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Easy Going,
Fad Gadget,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
La Düsseldorf,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Idris Muhammad,
Hot Snakes,
the Normal,
Suburban Knight,
EPMD,
Alison Limerick,
New York Dolls,
The Golliwogs,
T. Rex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Avey Tare,
Sixth Finger,
Scrapy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Babytalk,
The Standells,
Donald Byrd,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dirtbombs,
Animal Collective,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sällskapet,
Ituana,
Yusef Lateef,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Five Americans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Christie,
Skarface,
Ken Boothe,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
The Black Dice,
Rakim,
Ronnie Foster,
Groovy Waters,
Janne Schatter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.