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 Russia and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scott Walker to the funk 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
AZ,
Henry Cow,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Christie,
Rosa Yemen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Zero Boys,
The Victims,
R.M.O.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Suburban Knight,
Los Fastidios,
Janne Schatter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
Hasil Adkins,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
Danielle Patucci,
The New Christs,
Jacob Miller,
Marshall Jefferson,
Negative Approach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Alison Limerick,
Aloha Tigers,
T. Rex,
The Birthday Party,
DJ Sneak,
Sight & Sound,
The United States of America,
Easy Going,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Sonics,
Spoonie Gee,
The Angels of Light,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Foxx,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barrington Levy,
The Wake,
The Invisible,
Animal Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Tim Buckley,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wings,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kerri Chandler,
a-ha,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aural Exciters,
Vladislav Delay,
The Leaves,
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.