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 Australia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar 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 Sister Nancy to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Pussy Galore,
Crooked Eye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Starr,
Terrestrial Tones,
Glambeats Corp.,
ABC,
Rufus Thomas,
Eve St. Jones,
The Litter,
Cecil Taylor,
Siglo XX,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Vogues,
Marmalade,
Grauzone,
Intrusion,
Barbara Tucker,
Interpol,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
T.S.O.L.,
Janne Schatter,
JFA,
kango's stein massive,
Ronan,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cymande,
Main Source,
Bang On A Can,
In Retrospect,
Scratch Acid,
Spoonie Gee,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pet Shop Boys,
Visage,
Newcleus,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Adolescents,
Eli Mardock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brass Construction,
Half Japanese,
Toni Rubio,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Tremeloes,
Alice Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
Wally Richardson,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.