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 Uzbekistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 808 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 Max Romeo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Mission of Burma,
Howard Jones,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Fraelich,
Morten Harket,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ralphi Rosario,
OOIOO,
Tres Demented,
David Axelrod,
The Cowsills,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lucky Dragons,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Velvet Underground,
Skarface,
Alice Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Brick,
Tubeway Army,
Fat Boys,
Black Bananas,
Donald Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
F. McDonald,
Flash Fearless,
The Remains,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell,
Joe Smooth,
Camberwell Now,
Scratch Acid,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boz Scaggs,
Ossler,
Nils Olav,
The Blues Magoos,
Radio Birdman,
AZ,
Audionom,
Max Romeo,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
The Raincoats,
Smog,
Arcadia,
Yaz,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Selecter,
Erykah Badu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Underground Resistance,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.