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 Latvia and from Manchester.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Wolf Eyes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Angry Samoans,
Moss Icon,
Desert Stars,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cramps,
Lyres,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Seeds,
The Slits,
Hardrive,
Alison Limerick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fad Gadget,
Quantec,
Aaron Thompson,
Thompson Twins,
Surgeon,
Hot Snakes,
Average White Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Patti Smith,
Aural Exciters,
Smog,
Brothers Johnson,
John Foxx,
Harry Pussy,
Minutemen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Sneak,
T.S.O.L.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Angels of Light,
Sight & Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Danielle Patucci,
Matthew Bourne,
Y Pants,
Roxy Music,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barry Ungar,
Frankie Knuckles,
UT,
Nas,
Harmonia,
Bill Near,
Ossler,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nils Olav,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eric Dolphy,
Das Ding,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Delta 5,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.