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 Fiji and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tropical Tobacco to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crash Course in Science,
The Beau Brummels,
Easy Going,
Eve St. Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Parry Music,
Arthur Verocai,
Nils Olav,
Funkadelic,
The Angels of Light,
Sixth Finger,
Sex Pistols,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joensuu 1685,
The Happenings,
Inner City,
Toni Rubio,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed,
Theoretical Girls,
X-101,
Yazoo,
Suicide,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Count Five,
Roger Hodgson,
the Germs,
The Monochrome Set,
Spoonie Gee,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Masters at Work,
The Doors,
Donald Byrd,
Gong,
The Black Dice,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
Dennis Brown,
Sun Ra,
Goldenarms,
Lindisfarne,
Cameo,
Jawbox,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fortunes,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
The Mummies,
Soft Machine,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.