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 Australia and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Infiniti,
Sex Pistols,
Sparks,
The Martian,
Tres Demented,
Bizarre Inc.,
This Heat,
Matthew Halsall,
The Dirtbombs,
Unrelated Segments,
The Slits,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aloha Tigers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
Terry Callier,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sam Rivers,
Tim Buckley,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Silicon Teens,
La Düsseldorf,
The Remains,
Vainqueur,
The Seeds,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Music Machine,
Porter Ricks,
Sonic Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Beau Brummels,
Juan Atkins,
Anakelly,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ronan,
The Count Five,
The Fuzztones,
Kenny Larkin,
The Blues Magoos,
Alison Limerick,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fela Kuti,
the Normal,
Avey Tare,
Henry Cow,
Mad Mike,
Dennis Brown,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dead Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pere Ubu,
Lalo Schifrin,
R.M.O.,
Max Romeo,
Hasil Adkins,
Lower 48,
Minny Pops,
Ossler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.