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 Korea South and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the disco 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Lee Hazlewood,
Urselle,
48th St. Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Sarah Menescal,
Delta 5,
Andrew Hill,
Marmalade,
Aaron Thompson,
The Stooges,
R.M.O.,
U.S. Maple,
Accadde A,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Laurel Aitken,
Eve St. Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Suburban Knight,
AZ,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Count Five,
Deadbeat,
The Move,
Janne Schatter,
T.S.O.L.,
The J.B.'s,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Busters,
John Foxx,
Sun Ra,
Youth Brigade,
Tommy Roe,
Con Funk Shun,
ABC,
The Velvet Underground,
The Human League,
the Human League,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Audionom,
Magazine,
Tomorrow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Nico,
The Slackers,
Spoonie Gee,
Wolf Eyes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Theoretical Girls,
Vainqueur,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Juan Atkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Livin' Joy,
E-Dancer,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Wells,
the Swans,
Fat Boys,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.