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 New Zealand and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sun Ra 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Steve Hackett,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ten City,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Cale,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fortunes,
Zapp,
Avey Tare,
New York Dolls,
Fela Kuti,
The Cure,
the Germs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pantaleimon,
Can,
Hardrive,
Theoretical Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Todd Terry,
Circle Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Byrd,
Zero Boys,
The Black Dice,
Eden Ahbez,
Grey Daturas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Essential Logic,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Max Romeo,
The Velvet Underground,
Erasure,
Faust,
The Dirtbombs,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
E-Dancer,
Nico,
the Bar-Kays,
Flash Fearless,
Man Eating Sloth,
June of 44,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joy Division,
the Normal,
Maurizio,
Silicon Teens,
Subhumans,
Radiohead,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxy Music,
Nas,
Crime,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.