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 Gambia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Evens to the grunge 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ossler,
Lyres,
E-Dancer,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang Starr,
Scan 7,
Ultra Naté,
Cheater Slicks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Green,
Supertramp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alphaville,
Lucky Dragons,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Boz Scaggs,
kango's stein massive,
Nation of Ulysses,
Blossom Toes,
Delta 5,
Loose Ends,
Jandek,
Yazoo,
Bad Manners,
Television,
The Velvet Underground,
Judy Mowatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Porter Ricks,
Organ,
Lee Hazlewood,
Albert Ayler,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tim Buckley,
Lou Reed,
the Normal,
Amon Düül II,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Von Mondo,
Scrapy,
Qualms,
Deepchord,
Guru Guru,
Robert Görl,
Marine Girls,
Soft Machine,
The Seeds,
Agitation Free,
Rosa Yemen,
Erasure,
Pere Ubu,
Vainqueur,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Bananas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Japan,
the Sonics,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.