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 Oman and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the rock 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Sparks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ohio Players,
The Invisible,
Nation of Ulysses,
Soul Sonic Force,
Surgeon,
Fat Boys,
Urselle,
Davy DMX,
The Evens,
Tears for Fears,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dead C,
Kurtis Blow,
Agent Orange,
The Techniques,
The Durutti Column,
Soft Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gladiators,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ossler,
Donald Byrd,
Flipper,
The United States of America,
Sugar Minott,
Deakin,
Derrick May,
Slave,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Thee Headcoats,
Cybotron,
Chris & Cosey,
Lindisfarne,
Accadde A,
Curtis Mayfield,
Public Enemy,
Absolute Body Control,
L. Decosne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Niagra,
Cheater Slicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
The Misunderstood,
Quantec,
Cluster,
Fluxion,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Kinks,
the Human League,
Gastr Del Sol,
ABBA,
Heaven 17,
Index,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
PIL,
Barbara Tucker,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.