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 Thailand and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
John Coltrane,
Los Fastidios,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Wyatt,
Steve Hackett,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mad Mike,
Parry Music,
Minny Pops,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
X-102,
Faraquet,
The American Breed,
Rites of Spring,
James White and The Blacks,
Tears for Fears,
Davy DMX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Al Stewart,
Smog,
Outsiders,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jesper Dahlback,
Spoonie Gee,
The Shadows of Knight,
Monolake,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blancmange,
Neil Young,
Josef K,
Moebius,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lucky Dragons,
Nas,
Fela Kuti,
Model 500,
John Foxx,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Rapeman,
Ohio Players,
Cecil Taylor,
Scan 7,
Donald Byrd,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Associates,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Offenders,
Brick,
The Smoke,
Babytalk,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lindisfarne,
Malaria!,
48th St. Collective,
K-Klass,
Bill Near,
H. Thieme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.