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 Kosovo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Glenn Branca to the techno 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Ultra Naté,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Quantec,
Sexual Harrassment,
R.M.O.,
Eli Mardock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeff Lynne,
the Bar-Kays,
Fluxion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
Desert Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy Collins,
Arcadia,
The Index,
Soul II Soul,
Brick,
Mission of Burma,
Main Source,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Make Up,
Wolf Eyes,
Scrapy,
Deadbeat,
Lalann,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Leaves,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kurtis Blow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Avey Tare,
Grey Daturas,
Sight & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
The Evens,
Gang Green,
Section 25,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smiths,
Bad Manners,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Kinks,
Vladislav Delay,
Tommy Roe,
Al Stewart,
Inner City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Franke,
The Motions,
Jacob Miller,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.