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 Qatar and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the jazz 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Victims,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Dolphy,
Cameo,
Hoover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mummies,
Robert Görl,
Eve St. Jones,
Barry Ungar,
Urselle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Trumans Water,
Pagans,
Jeff Mills,
David Axelrod,
Guru Guru,
Maurizio,
Model 500,
The Barracudas,
Ponytail,
Tubeway Army,
Dark Day,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
Desert Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Fela Kuti,
Alphaville,
PIL,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dorothy Ashby,
Whodini,
Bang On A Can,
Tim Buckley,
John Holt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harmonia,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minny Pops,
Peter & Gordon,
Joe Finger,
Liliput,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bob Dylan,
Surgeon,
Circle Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
MC5,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bauhaus,
The Beau Brummels,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Slits,
The Fuzztones,
John Foxx,
Donny Hathaway,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.