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 Brazil and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Camberwell Now to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Barbara Tucker,
Scion,
Loose Ends,
June Days,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter & Gordon,
Harry Pussy,
Gabor Szabo,
Ice-T,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Byron Stingily,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kenny Larkin,
Crash Course in Science,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
AZ,
Swans,
Tom Boy,
Thompson Twins,
Yaz,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Kinks,
ABC,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
Eric Copeland,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cal Tjader,
L. Decosne,
Donald Byrd,
The Wake,
Connie Case,
The Human League,
Index,
Lindisfarne,
Lakeside,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Durutti Column,
Outsiders,
Maurizio,
Stetsasonic,
Radiopuhelimet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pole,
World's Most,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Martian,
Hasil Adkins,
Kas Product,
The Evens,
Cecil Taylor,
The Searchers,
Joe Finger,
DJ Style,
Alphaville,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.