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 Estonia and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Freddie Wadling to the electroclash 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day 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 funk 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cameo,
Kaleidoscope,
Minor Threat,
Delta 5,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
The Knickerbockers,
Suburban Knight,
Alice Coltrane,
a-ha,
Spandau Ballet,
L. Decosne,
The Sound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rapeman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Don Cherry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythm & Sound,
KRS-One,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
Hasil Adkins,
Barrington Levy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Flag,
Harry Pussy,
Albert Ayler,
Das Ding,
Brand Nubian,
Mantronix,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Saccharine Trust,
Deadbeat,
Michelle Simonal,
Minnie Riperton,
Magma,
Eric Copeland,
The Gladiators,
Neu!,
UT,
Dave Gahan,
Scott Walker,
Pantaleimon,
Junior Murvin,
The Black Dice,
Sällskapet,
Wasted Youth,
Ice-T,
The Index,
Ultravox,
Tres Demented,
New Order,
Soul II Soul,
Moby Grape,
Fatback Band,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.