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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Rites of Spring to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Erasure,
Pussy Galore,
Man Eating Sloth,
Davy DMX,
Roger Hodgson,
Neu!,
Loose Ends,
The Durutti Column,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sonny Sharrock,
Malaria!,
The Misunderstood,
Half Japanese,
Chrome,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stockholm Monsters,
Pantaleimon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Maurizio,
These Immortal Souls,
The Star Department,
Minny Pops,
Stiv Bators,
Girls At Our Best!,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
The Blackbyrds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Whodini,
Wire,
Shoche,
Alison Limerick,
Minnie Riperton,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ice-T,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delta 5,
Brothers Johnson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Country Teasers,
The Offenders,
Rakim,
Sarah Menescal,
Yaz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
The Neon Judgement,
Public Image Ltd.,
Carl Craig,
Buzzcocks,
Gang of Four,
John Lydon,
The Fugs,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.