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 Guatemala and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Mummies to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Birthday Party,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Lydon,
Motorama,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brick,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Desert Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Quantec,
Leonard Cohen,
H. Thieme,
Cybotron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alphaville,
The Kinks,
Bad Manners,
Duran Duran,
Moebius,
Lyres,
DJ Style,
Rotary Connection,
Niagra,
Skaos,
Grey Daturas,
Joensuu 1685,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed,
Stereo Dub,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Magma,
Faraquet,
The Raincoats,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
CMW,
Joe Smooth,
The Mojo Men,
Gang of Four,
KRS-One,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
James White and The Blacks,
The Martian,
Dawn Penn,
The Zeros,
Matthew Halsall,
Minor Threat,
Robert Görl,
Susan Cadogan,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
China Crisis,
Dual Sessions,
the Association,
Cluster,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.