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 Ethiopia and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Patti Smith to the crunk 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Babytalk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
Ken Boothe,
Wally Richardson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric Dolphy,
Skarface,
Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cecil Taylor,
Clear Light,
Sex Pistols,
Josef K,
R.M.O.,
Popol Vuh,
Fear,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Flamin' Groovies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Parry Music,
Rotary Connection,
the Normal,
Leonard Cohen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
kango's stein massive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oneida,
The Modern Lovers,
The Sound,
The United States of America,
Minny Pops,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Youth Brigade,
Anthony Braxton,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fugs,
Roger Hodgson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Au Pairs,
Soft Cell,
Neu!,
Hasil Adkins,
Todd Terry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oblivians,
the Sonics,
Lower 48,
Piero Umiliani,
MDC,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Moss Icon,
Harpers Bizarre,
In Retrospect,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jandek,
Black Bananas,
The Buckinghams,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.