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 Lithuania and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roger Hodgson to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scratch Acid,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Hood,
Supertramp,
Brick,
Marmalade,
Kurtis Blow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Alarm Clocks,
Robert Görl,
Gastr Del Sol,
Y Pants,
Qualms,
OOIOO,
Eric Dolphy,
The Pretty Things,
Reagan Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Heaven 17,
Todd Terry,
Pagans,
The Seeds,
Cecil Taylor,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Zapp,
T.S.O.L.,
the Swans,
Todd Rundgren,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Susan Cadogan,
Alice Coltrane,
The Saints,
The Golliwogs,
The Cramps,
Sixth Finger,
The Techniques,
Au Pairs,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Wells,
Agent Orange,
The Index,
The Modern Lovers,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Neon Judgement,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marine Girls,
The New Christs,
Archie Shepp,
Dawn Penn,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Theoretical Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lakeside,
Pantytec,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Count Five,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.