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 Brazil and from Lyon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar 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 Crime to the jazz 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Saccharine Trust,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brick,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suicide,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dead C,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
Los Fastidios,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Althea and Donna,
Davy DMX,
Yazoo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Litter,
Jacob Miller,
Anakelly,
Sam Rivers,
Patti Smith,
Charles Mingus,
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Vladislav Delay,
The Leaves,
The Dirtbombs,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
Fear,
The Fugs,
Pagans,
Glenn Branca,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cal Tjader,
Sun Ra,
X-Ray Spex,
Television Personalities,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Hill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lyres,
Neu!,
Crooked Eye,
The Saints,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Barracudas,
Graham Central Station,
Joe Smooth,
Neil Young,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cymande,
The Vogues,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Golliwogs,
Barry Ungar,
Toni Rubio,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.