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 Belarus and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lindisfarne to the grunge 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Janne Schatter,
Surgeon,
The Knickerbockers,
Fela Kuti,
Aural Exciters,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Sneak,
Shuggie Otis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The American Breed,
Al Stewart,
The Count Five,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Pop Group,
Wings,
Harry Pussy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Modern Lovers,
The Red Krayola,
Animal Collective,
Dennis Brown,
OOIOO,
Sparks,
The Vogues,
Warsaw,
Ultravox,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Invisible,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sarah Menescal,
Deakin,
Stockholm Monsters,
David Axelrod,
Judy Mowatt,
Cal Tjader,
Los Fastidios,
Masters at Work,
T. Rex,
Eden Ahbez,
Organ,
Peter & Gordon,
Newcleus,
Hoover,
Unrelated Segments,
Alice Coltrane,
John Cale,
Excepter,
X-Ray Spex,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Motions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Schoolly D,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
Amazonics,
Monks,
a-ha,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.