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 Egypt and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 harpsichord 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Circle Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Sneak,
Todd Rundgren,
Mandrill,
Tom Boy,
Sonic Youth,
kango's stein massive,
Ituana,
Ultravox,
Sound Behaviour,
Yaz,
Oneida,
Swell Maps,
Graham Central Station,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Colin Newman,
Lou Reed,
Alice Coltrane,
Make Up,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
MC5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Glenn Branca,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Pretty Things,
Scratch Acid,
Moby Grape,
The Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Royal Trux,
The Sonics,
Delta 5,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Outsiders,
Maleditus Sound,
Desert Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
Radiohead,
The Mojo Men,
Hot Snakes,
Minny Pops,
Maurizio,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Albert Ayler,
Jeru the Damaja,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Last Poets,
Pet Shop Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.