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 Slovenia and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Josef K to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Al Stewart,
Absolute Body Control,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Camberwell Now,
Amon Düül,
Judy Mowatt,
The Music Machine,
The Searchers,
Theoretical Girls,
Nils Olav,
Depeche Mode,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Adolescents,
Hashim,
Ludus,
Wolf Eyes,
Swell Maps,
Monolake,
Jeru the Damaja,
Godley & Creme,
Lyres,
Deepchord,
Vladislav Delay,
Easy Going,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Basic Channel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
AZ,
Au Pairs,
Jimmy McGriff,
June of 44,
The Mummies,
Groovy Waters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
Robert Hood,
The Gladiators,
Porter Ricks,
Peter and Kerry,
Fela Kuti,
Liliput,
Alice Coltrane,
Isaac Hayes,
Zero Boys,
The Fire Engines,
Mission of Burma,
Minor Threat,
the Normal,
Faraquet,
Oneida,
Pantytec,
Black Sheep,
Goldenarms,
The Remains,
Chris Corsano,
Television,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.