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 Thailand and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Minor Threat to the grunge 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Fraelich,
the Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sandy B,
The Electric Prunes,
Alison Limerick,
Hot Snakes,
Goldenarms,
Quando Quango,
Yellowson,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
D'Angelo,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Main Source,
Saccharine Trust,
Y Pants,
ABBA,
Sugar Minott,
Tubeway Army,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gil Scott Heron,
Harmonia,
Roxy Music,
Scott Walker,
Sight & Sound,
Boredoms,
Skarface,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suburban Knight,
Qualms,
The Moody Blues,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Trojans,
The Evens,
Eurythmics,
X-102,
DNA,
F. McDonald,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Durutti Column,
Erasure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Machine,
Crooked Eye,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
The Gun Club,
Cal Tjader,
Blake Baxter,
Reuben Wilson,
Rod Modell,
Yusef Lateef,
Vainqueur,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.