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 Macedonia and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sisters of Mercy to the punk 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marmalade,
The Last Poets,
Scrapy,
Vladislav Delay,
Zero Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bad Manners,
Soul II Soul,
New York Dolls,
Silicon Teens,
Laurel Aitken,
The Names,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Sonics,
Cal Tjader,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gichy Dan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Popol Vuh,
Rufus Thomas,
Anthony Braxton,
The Grass Roots,
Gabor Szabo,
Kayak,
Groovy Waters,
The Electric Prunes,
Fela Kuti,
The Blues Magoos,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Spandau Ballet,
Eli Mardock,
Radio Birdman,
Kerri Chandler,
Zapp,
Electric Prunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Supertramp,
Excepter,
Moebius,
The Pretty Things,
Juan Atkins,
Crash Course in Science,
Fluxion,
D'Angelo,
Circle Jerks,
Shuggie Otis,
Aaron Thompson,
Boz Scaggs,
Minny Pops,
Ponytail,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Busters,
Eddi Front,
Animal Collective,
Sister Nancy,
Marvin Gaye,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.