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 South Sudan and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 LL Cool J to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Pagans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Derrick May,
Judy Mowatt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Trumans Water,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
Piero Umiliani,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Red Krayola,
Lower 48,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gun Club,
Fat Boys,
Sun City Girls,
John Holt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Michelle Simonal,
Marine Girls,
E-Dancer,
Barry Ungar,
Blossom Toes,
Make Up,
Severed Heads,
Eric B and Rakim,
Carl Craig,
The Index,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Can,
Khruangbin,
Albert Ayler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alison Limerick,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Count Five,
Visage,
Black Sheep,
Archie Shepp,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
Crispian St. Peters,
DNA,
The Remains,
Radio Birdman,
Saccharine Trust,
Slick Rick,
Depeche Mode,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Move,
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
June of 44,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alton Ellis,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Almond,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.