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 Burundi and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
the Association,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Davy DMX,
Derrick May,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Youth Brigade,
Absolute Body Control,
New Order,
Soul II Soul,
Delta 5,
Swans,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
The Smoke,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Grass Roots,
The Martian,
Clear Light,
Jandek,
The Real Kids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Flash Fearless,
X-102,
Marshall Jefferson,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smiths,
Andrew Hill,
Brass Construction,
Oblivians,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Move,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Al Stewart,
PIL,
Sonic Youth,
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Terry,
Amazonics,
The Human League,
Big Daddy Kane,
Index,
Spandau Ballet,
Crime,
Dual Sessions,
Kenny Larkin,
The Black Dice,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
Black Flag,
Malaria!,
Supertramp,
Robert Wyatt,
Scratch Acid,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.