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 South Sudan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sam Rivers to the punk 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Zeros,
Arab on Radar,
Minnie Riperton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Khruangbin,
Jacob Miller,
Magazine,
Ten City,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Whodini,
The Associates,
Theoretical Girls,
Rapeman,
Faraquet,
Youth Brigade,
D'Angelo,
The Walker Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
E-Dancer,
Joensuu 1685,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare,
Interpol,
Maleditus Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Mission of Burma,
The Knickerbockers,
Skaos,
Prince Buster,
Soul II Soul,
Letta Mbulu,
Absolute Body Control,
The Alarm Clocks,
Freddie Wadling,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-101,
Amazonics,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joy Division,
New Age Steppers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nik Kershaw,
JFA,
A Certain Ratio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Supertramp,
Clear Light,
Godley & Creme,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sam Rivers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roger Hodgson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.