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 Bhutan and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Lou Reed 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Massinfluence,
James White and The Blacks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Walker Brothers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
The Offenders,
The Dirtbombs,
Pagans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MDC,
Grauzone,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bush Tetras,
Prince Buster,
In Retrospect,
Ronnie Foster,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter & Gordon,
The Young Rascals,
Ken Boothe,
Thompson Twins,
Motorama,
Tears for Fears,
Ohio Players,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wings,
Section 25,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joyce Sims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grey Daturas,
Hot Snakes,
Arthur Verocai,
New Age Steppers,
Electric Prunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Malaria!,
The Vogues,
The Count Five,
Bauhaus,
Crooked Eye,
The Modern Lovers,
Shoche,
Sugar Minott,
Sarah Menescal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Quando Quango,
Scientists,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nation of Ulysses,
Metal Thangz,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Skatalites,
Newcleus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Litter,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.