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 Panama and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the rock 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
the Bar-Kays,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
Oblivians,
Can,
Liliput,
Popol Vuh,
The Neon Judgement,
the Germs,
Cluster,
Rod Modell,
Deadbeat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Depeche Mode,
48th St. Collective,
Jandek,
Eric Dolphy,
Cymande,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Michelle Simonal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Organ,
DJ Style,
Prince Buster,
Mo-Dettes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Talk Talk,
The J.B.'s,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Suburban Knight,
Patti Smith,
Second Layer,
Agent Orange,
Technova,
the Human League,
Brand Nubian,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Neu!,
This Heat,
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erasure,
E-Dancer,
Camberwell Now,
Peter & Gordon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nils Olav,
Faust,
The Electric Prunes,
Model 500,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.