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 Bangladesh and from Accra.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Kas Product,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Fania All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
The Moleskins,
The Red Krayola,
Eddi Front,
Make Up,
Funky Four + One,
Andrew Hill,
Deepchord,
Easy Going,
Throbbing Gristle,
Altered Images,
Leonard Cohen,
Boredoms,
The Velvet Underground,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lightning Bolt,
Barrington Levy,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The American Breed,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Sheep,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fire Engines,
Pole,
Quantec,
The Busters,
Deadbeat,
Connie Case,
Radio Birdman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Radiohead,
Can,
Von Mondo,
Sam Rivers,
Amon Düül II,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Association,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Wyatt,
The Vogues,
Joe Finger,
The Human League,
Dual Sessions,
Davy DMX,
The Walker Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Ohio Players,
The Pop Group,
Lakeside,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lyres,
New Age Steppers,
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.