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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Babytalk to the rock 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
The Golliwogs,
Pulsallama,
Spandau Ballet,
The Walker Brothers,
Ultra Naté,
Youth Brigade,
Glenn Branca,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Albert Ayler,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fortunes,
PIL,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Sneak,
Kevin Saunderson,
James White and The Blacks,
The Pretty Things,
Rufus Thomas,
FM Einheit,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Agent Orange,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Misunderstood,
John Lydon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Carl Craig,
Sixth Finger,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Surgeon,
Judy Mowatt,
Grey Daturas,
The Litter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Zero Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Altered Images,
Skarface,
Morten Harket,
Peter and Kerry,
La Düsseldorf,
Schoolly D,
MC5,
Lyres,
Deadbeat,
Idris Muhammad,
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.