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 Sweden and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lou Christie to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Moon,
Crime,
Jeff Mills,
The Sonics,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
Jandek,
Circle Jerks,
Camberwell Now,
Make Up,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eli Mardock,
Joe Smooth,
Eve St. Jones,
Tom Boy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bluetip,
Junior Murvin,
Michelle Simonal,
Flamin' Groovies,
Basic Channel,
Sparks,
Mandrill,
Surgeon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Excepter,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
Porter Ricks,
Oneida,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Trojans,
Zero Boys,
E-Dancer,
Robert Wyatt,
Josef K,
Barrington Levy,
Althea and Donna,
Kenny Larkin,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Moby Grape,
Organ,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Godley & Creme,
The Count Five,
The Moody Blues,
Freddie Wadling,
Wolf Eyes,
Sonic Youth,
Prince Buster,
Kayak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra,
The Moleskins,
Pylon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rhythm & Sound,
JFA,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.