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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Talk Talk to the grime 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
8 Eyed Spy,
Erykah Badu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Television Personalities,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Martian,
Aswad,
Sandy B,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Public Enemy,
Jacques Brel,
Kool Moe Dee,
One Last Wish,
Buzzcocks,
John Lydon,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
Clear Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
cv313,
Au Pairs,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
Eve St. Jones,
Rites of Spring,
Basic Channel,
R.M.O.,
Glenn Branca,
The Searchers,
Magazine,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fuzztones,
Brothers Johnson,
Can,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Reuben Wilson,
Chris Corsano,
The Modern Lovers,
Pylon,
Zapp,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Popol Vuh,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cecil Taylor,
F. McDonald,
The Residents,
Wasted Youth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soft Machine,
John Foxx,
Jawbox,
Masters at Work,
Eddi Front,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
L. Decosne,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Alphaville,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.