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 United Kingdom and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Moby Grape to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Thompson Twins,
Altered Images,
The Victims,
Basic Channel,
The Litter,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Almond,
Angry Samoans,
Qualms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bush Tetras,
Dorothy Ashby,
Carl Craig,
The Names,
Black Moon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Babytalk,
The Motions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Leaves,
The Doors,
Chrome,
Althea and Donna,
The Birthday Party,
Thee Headcoats,
Tears for Fears,
John Holt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Maleditus Sound,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gabor Szabo,
The Neon Judgement,
Connie Case,
Robert Görl,
Accadde A,
Vladislav Delay,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Subhumans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Kinks,
Pantaleimon,
June of 44,
Organ,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rod Modell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tomorrow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
cv313,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
kango's stein massive,
The Walker Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.