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 Slovakia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Misunderstood to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Easy Going,
Technova,
Gabor Szabo,
Yaz,
Tubeway Army,
Dorothy Ashby,
Y Pants,
Ultravox,
Reagan Youth,
Peter and Kerry,
cv313,
the Soft Cell,
Robert Wyatt,
Surgeon,
Alice Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Joey Negro,
Mission of Burma,
Terrestrial Tones,
Carl Craig,
The Kinks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sister Nancy,
Livin' Joy,
B.T. Express,
The Human League,
Von Mondo,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Mills,
Fear,
The Saints,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Smoke,
The Sound,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Television Personalities,
Morten Harket,
Malaria!,
June of 44,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
The Gladiators,
Little Man,
Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
Subhumans,
Funkadelic,
Deakin,
Soft Machine,
K-Klass,
Chris Corsano,
Laurel Aitken,
Fugazi,
Rapeman,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.