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 Marshall Islands and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Roxy Music to the funk 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
Babytalk,
Magma,
Kurtis Blow,
Pantytec,
the Germs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Monks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Danielle Patucci,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dennis Brown,
X-Ray Spex,
Lalann,
Faust,
KRS-One,
Kaleidoscope,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythm & Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joyce Sims,
Juan Atkins,
Excepter,
Underground Resistance,
Funky Four + One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Cale,
La Düsseldorf,
New Order,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gories,
One Last Wish,
Bang On A Can,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lungfish,
Amazonics,
Wolf Eyes,
Schoolly D,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
Cal Tjader,
Lucky Dragons,
the Swans,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Slackers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Clarke,
Boz Scaggs,
Nik Kershaw,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
Nils Olav,
X-101,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.