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 Turkey and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can,
Babytalk,
Black Flag,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Royal Trux,
Nils Olav,
Ice-T,
Q65,
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
These Immortal Souls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lyres,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wings,
Schoolly D,
Blancmange,
Kurtis Blow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cluster,
Ultravox,
The Tremeloes,
Make Up,
Panda Bear,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aloha Tigers,
Arab on Radar,
Jacob Miller,
Marvin Gaye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick May,
Marc Almond,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers,
ABC,
Gabor Szabo,
Gang Starr,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Porter Ricks,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
10cc,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Sonics,
Crash Course in Science,
The Modern Lovers,
The Music Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
Angry Samoans,
The Red Krayola,
Alphaville,
Brothers Johnson,
Camouflage,
Danielle Patucci,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.