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 Mongolia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Suicide to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Khruangbin,
Y Pants,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Residents,
Trumans Water,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Q and Not U,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Leonard Cohen,
PIL,
Oneida,
Camberwell Now,
Toni Rubio,
Franke,
Stetsasonic,
Idris Muhammad,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yaz,
Los Fastidios,
Magazine,
Livin' Joy,
Crash Course in Science,
Subhumans,
Deepchord,
Shoche,
Brass Construction,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Toasters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fugs,
MC5,
The American Breed,
The Gladiators,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxette,
X-102,
AZ,
Ponytail,
The Busters,
Dennis Brown,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Index,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Flash Fearless,
The Searchers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Techniques,
F. McDonald,
Negative Approach,
Television Personalities,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.