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 New Zealand and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Kenny Larkin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Derrick May,
Black Flag,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Terry,
Essential Logic,
Stereo Dub,
Tears for Fears,
Das Ding,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brass Construction,
Kas Product,
Eli Mardock,
The Black Dice,
Steve Hackett,
Hot Snakes,
The Fall,
Carl Craig,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Walker Brothers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
E-Dancer,
Chris Corsano,
Make Up,
Amazonics,
Harry Pussy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lucky Dragons,
Von Mondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Khruangbin,
Aural Exciters,
The Last Poets,
Urselle,
The Invisible,
Flipper,
Mantronix,
Swell Maps,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
The Golliwogs,
Sällskapet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bill Near,
La Düsseldorf,
10cc,
The Move,
the Sonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
The Mojo Men,
Smog,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dual Sessions,
Babytalk,
Monolake,
Joe Smooth,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.