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 Senegal and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Copenhagen.
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 marimba 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 Angels of Light to the disco 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Barbara Tucker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Audionom,
Boredoms,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
Wings,
Mr. Review,
the Fania All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Massinfluence,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lee Hazlewood,
Whodini,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Womack,
Interpol,
Deakin,
The Busters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jeff Mills,
The Doors,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
OOIOO,
ABBA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Anakelly,
Banda Bassotti,
The Music Machine,
Rapeman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter and Kerry,
Echospace,
Mantronix,
Outsiders,
Soul II Soul,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fall,
Man Parrish,
Cybotron,
Nik Kershaw,
The Standells,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Sherman,
Shoche,
Moebius,
Isaac Hayes,
Tim Buckley,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marine Girls,
Metal Thangz,
Loose Ends,
DNA,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.