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 Turkey and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Mr. Review to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Tremeloes,
Tommy Roe,
UT,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Severed Heads,
Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
D'Angelo,
Aaron Thompson,
Skriet,
The Grass Roots,
Rhythm & Sound,
Magma,
The Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
John Holt,
The Durutti Column,
The Gladiators,
F. McDonald,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alton Ellis,
Reagan Youth,
Sandy B,
Easy Going,
The Searchers,
The Zeros,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalann,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jesper Dahlback,
Morten Harket,
The Evens,
Rufus Thomas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skarface,
Tubeway Army,
Whodini,
Technova,
Zapp,
New Order,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Selecter,
Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
Bad Manners,
Nas,
Ten City,
Excepter,
Bob Dylan,
Infiniti,
Delon & Dalcan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dave Clark Five,
K-Klass,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.