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 Brunei and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Chris Corsano to the disco 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Sonic Youth,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gories,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radiohead,
Babytalk,
Eric Dolphy,
Silicon Teens,
The Stooges,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Young Rascals,
Skaos,
Gerry Rafferty,
Reuben Wilson,
The Knickerbockers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Swans,
The Grass Roots,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultimate Spinach,
Livin' Joy,
Suburban Knight,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joy Division,
Electric Prunes,
Arab on Radar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott Heron,
Audionom,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-102,
Monks,
Maurizio,
Lou Reed,
Banda Bassotti,
Lou Christie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Unrelated Segments,
Deadbeat,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gabor Szabo,
David Axelrod,
The Pretty Things,
Circle Jerks,
Pulsallama,
Sex Pistols,
Bad Manners,
Delta 5,
Los Fastidios,
T. Rex,
the Soft Cell,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.