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 Georgia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
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 rhodes 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doors,
Make Up,
Barry Ungar,
Youth Brigade,
Wings,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ultra Naté,
The Victims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marmalade,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Morten Harket,
Second Layer,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Letta Mbulu,
Boogie Down Productions,
Animal Collective,
The Seeds,
Minutemen,
Barbara Tucker,
The Remains,
The Wake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dennis Brown,
PIL,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
T.S.O.L.,
Urselle,
Scientists,
Joe Finger,
Ossler,
Masters at Work,
Duran Duran,
The Real Kids,
DNA,
Lucky Dragons,
Babytalk,
ABC,
Sun Ra,
Stiv Bators,
Piero Umiliani,
Hasil Adkins,
Gong,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Hood,
Suicide,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nas,
The Monochrome Set,
Kenny Larkin,
Fear,
Index,
Electric Prunes,
Chris & Cosey,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.