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 Latvia and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 Derrick May to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Scientists,
Fat Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marine Girls,
John Foxx,
The Birthday Party,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Junior Murvin,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Star Department,
Malaria!,
The Young Rascals,
The Knickerbockers,
the Association,
Bad Manners,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
Donny Hathaway,
L. Decosne,
Faust,
The Moody Blues,
Delta 5,
The Remains,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
The Martian,
Sparks,
Roxy Music,
Procol Harum,
Kayak,
K-Klass,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Metal Thangz,
Barry Ungar,
The Associates,
Inner City,
Icehouse,
Stereo Dub,
The Fortunes,
Joensuu 1685,
cv313,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fugs,
Mars,
Flipper,
John Lydon,
Ituana,
Jerry's Kids,
Sound Behaviour,
Wasted Youth,
Ken Boothe,
The Searchers,
Television Personalities,
Gang Starr,
The Kinks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magazine,
Juan Atkins,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.