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 Mongolia and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Half Japanese to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
48th St. Collective,
the Normal,
Gong,
Terrestrial Tones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Red Krayola,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Colin Newman,
Symarip,
Lucky Dragons,
One Last Wish,
Yusef Lateef,
La Düsseldorf,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Main Source,
D'Angelo,
June of 44,
Section 25,
Moby Grape,
Amazonics,
The Blues Magoos,
Reuben Wilson,
Von Mondo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sex Pistols,
The Fortunes,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Bar-Kays,
Drexciya,
The Buckinghams,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeff Lynne,
Pylon,
Sam Rivers,
Deadbeat,
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Archie Shepp,
Faust,
Angry Samoans,
Dark Day,
Motorama,
Byron Stingily,
The Wake,
Pet Shop Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heaven 17,
The Techniques,
Duran Duran,
Half Japanese,
Talk Talk,
Faraquet,
Zapp,
Wolf Eyes,
Toni Rubio,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.