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 Serbia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Calgary and Philadelphia.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Amon Düül,
Wally Richardson,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
The Leaves,
Deepchord,
Mr. Review,
Lindisfarne,
Black Flag,
The Knickerbockers,
The Smiths,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rekid,
Scrapy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sam Rivers,
Spoonie Gee,
Vainqueur,
DNA,
Chrome,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lalann,
Quadrant,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-102,
China Crisis,
Bad Manners,
Kayak,
Sugar Minott,
Rites of Spring,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
Crash Course in Science,
Graham Central Station,
OOIOO,
Silicon Teens,
The Happenings,
Saccharine Trust,
Sparks,
Arcadia,
Jeff Lynne,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Gregory Isaacs,
Minutemen,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
Lebanon Hanover,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marc Almond,
Infiniti,
Roxy Music,
Los Fastidios,
Dark Day,
Au Pairs,
Lee Hazlewood,
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.