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 Denmark and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Cure to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Seeds,
Charles Mingus,
Underground Resistance,
Suburban Knight,
Oneida,
Aswad,
ABC,
Bush Tetras,
Spandau Ballet,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
Negative Approach,
the Slits,
Slick Rick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moss Icon,
Nico,
Radiohead,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minutemen,
Alison Limerick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
T.S.O.L.,
Little Man,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Grass Roots,
T. Rex,
Michelle Simonal,
Surgeon,
Bad Manners,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swans,
Nils Olav,
Quando Quango,
Agent Orange,
Mars,
The Buckinghams,
The Golliwogs,
Sonny Sharrock,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Beau Brummels,
One Last Wish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harmonia,
Kurtis Blow,
Eden Ahbez,
Can,
Rufus Thomas,
Y Pants,
Kerri Chandler,
Blake Baxter,
Davy DMX,
Idris Muhammad,
The Wake,
Zero Boys,
X-101,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.