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 Ivory Coast and from Cairo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jeff Mills to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Johnny Osbourne,
H. Thieme,
James White and The Blacks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Green,
Eddi Front,
Section 25,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Harry Pussy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bauhaus,
Porter Ricks,
Archie Shepp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
New Order,
Sexual Harrassment,
Toni Rubio,
CMW,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
Blancmange,
Neil Young,
Model 500,
Gang of Four,
The Stooges,
Gang Gang Dance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joe Finger,
These Immortal Souls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Patti Smith,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Ronan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Birthday Party,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pagans,
The Remains,
Goldenarms,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slackers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Negative Approach,
Amazonics,
Bluetip,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Normal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Isaac Hayes,
Roger Hodgson,
AZ,
Robert Wyatt,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.