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 Israel and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Delhi.
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 linndrum 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the funk 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Organ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eurythmics,
Eve St. Jones,
Reuben Wilson,
Intrusion,
Angry Samoans,
Bizarre Inc.,
Camberwell Now,
The Martian,
Lyres,
Camouflage,
The Dirtbombs,
Graham Central Station,
The Wake,
Harry Pussy,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Theoretical Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unrelated Segments,
Susan Cadogan,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
New Age Steppers,
Michelle Simonal,
Todd Rundgren,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mad Mike,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nirvana,
Jimmy McGriff,
Anakelly,
Lower 48,
Sunsets and Hearts,
T.S.O.L.,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wings,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
Jandek,
Mr. Review,
Derrick May,
Thompson Twins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Glenn Branca,
Fad Gadget,
Accadde A,
Roger Hodgson,
John Lydon,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.