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 Costa Rica and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
The Doors,
R.M.O.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fatback Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cheater Slicks,
Intrusion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Archie Shepp,
Liliput,
The Selecter,
The American Breed,
Jerry's Kids,
The United States of America,
Grauzone,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gories,
Lungfish,
Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Danielle Patucci,
Spoonie Gee,
Grey Daturas,
Niagra,
John Coltrane,
Quantec,
Deadbeat,
the Soft Cell,
The Human League,
Deakin,
Gang Starr,
Yazoo,
Prince Buster,
Dave Gahan,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
H. Thieme,
Unrelated Segments,
Sister Nancy,
Can,
Talk Talk,
The Music Machine,
Urselle,
Barbara Tucker,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Red Krayola,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-Ray Spex,
Tommy Roe,
Blancmange,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Thee Headcoats,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
Television Personalities,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.