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 Saudi Arabia and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Aural Exciters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '90s.
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 Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sandy B,
The Residents,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dead Boys,
The Angels of Light,
D'Angelo,
DNA,
Althea and Donna,
ABC,
Moebius,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Y Pants,
The Zeros,
X-101,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slick Rick,
Depeche Mode,
Gang of Four,
Eddi Front,
The Gap Band,
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
Tomorrow,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
Lyres,
Desert Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roxette,
Mad Mike,
Black Bananas,
Slave,
Piero Umiliani,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Procol Harum,
OOIOO,
Deakin,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eve St. Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Tom Boy,
Deadbeat,
Pole,
Yellowson,
Fear,
The Black Dice,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stiv Bators,
New Order,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Subhumans,
Clear Light,
Robert Hood,
Donny Hathaway,
Average White Band,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.