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 Guyana and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Donald Byrd to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Q and Not U,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Davy DMX,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
R.M.O.,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Trojans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Eve St. Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brothers Johnson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Warsaw,
DJ Style,
Silicon Teens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pantaleimon,
Moby Grape,
Monolake,
D'Angelo,
The Kinks,
Andrew Hill,
A Certain Ratio,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultimate Spinach,
cv313,
Joensuu 1685,
Oblivians,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crooked Eye,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
Erasure,
Funky Four + One,
Barrington Levy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Little Man,
Animal Collective,
Jawbox,
Gang Green,
Sun Ra,
These Immortal Souls,
Swans,
Reuben Wilson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Slackers,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Deakin,
Prince Buster,
Nas,
The Remains,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.