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 Macedonia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Animal Collective to the dance 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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Crooked Eye,
Organ,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
One Last Wish,
ABBA,
Duran Duran,
The Wake,
Brothers Johnson,
The Doobie Brothers,
PIL,
Depeche Mode,
Piero Umiliani,
Roy Ayers,
Flash Fearless,
Davy DMX,
Man Eating Sloth,
Juan Atkins,
Mr. Review,
The Young Rascals,
Marshall Jefferson,
Young Marble Giants,
The Techniques,
Carl Craig,
The Star Department,
Bush Tetras,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flamin' Groovies,
Excepter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Smog,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
The Victims,
Technova,
The Slackers,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Suicide,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris & Cosey,
Monks,
Franke,
Magma,
B.T. Express,
the Sonics,
Rosa Yemen,
Pere Ubu,
Sandy B,
Ultra Naté,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Henry Cow,
Masters at Work,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.