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 Liechtenstein and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Portland and Tehran.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Frankie Knuckles to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Surgeon,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
Black Moon,
kango's stein massive,
In Retrospect,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bluetip,
Cecil Taylor,
New Order,
Procol Harum,
The Skatalites,
The Angels of Light,
Ultra Naté,
The Knickerbockers,
Symarip,
Guru Guru,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crash Course in Science,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Massinfluence,
H. Thieme,
Sex Pistols,
Japan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Funkadelic,
Tears for Fears,
Scion,
the Human League,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Joy Division,
Hoover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ponytail,
Excepter,
Bootsy Collins,
Little Man,
Loose Ends,
Camberwell Now,
LL Cool J,
Soul II Soul,
Country Teasers,
Technova,
Magma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rakim,
The Fall,
Cluster,
Cymande,
Clear Light,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Standells,
Lalo Schifrin,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.