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 Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Morten Harket to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The New Christs,
Jesper Dahlback,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
Swell Maps,
Eric Copeland,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-Ray Spex,
Quadrant,
Mars,
Jacques Brel,
Excepter,
Ronan,
Mission of Burma,
Pussy Galore,
KRS-One,
Bang On A Can,
The Blues Magoos,
Traffic Nightmare,
David McCallum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hot Snakes,
Audionom,
Masters at Work,
Toni Rubio,
Hasil Adkins,
Wings,
T. Rex,
Faust,
Robert Görl,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cameo,
Kas Product,
Unwound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Das Ding,
Yellowson,
Graham Central Station,
Max Romeo,
Judy Mowatt,
Outsiders,
Maurizio,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slackers,
Rites of Spring,
The Fall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liliput,
Kurtis Blow,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Starr,
Eric Dolphy,
T.S.O.L.,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The United States of America,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.