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 Suriname and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Chris Corsano to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
The J.B.'s,
Theoretical Girls,
The Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Dawn Penn,
Nik Kershaw,
The Toasters,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Rites of Spring,
Ponytail,
Peter & Gordon,
Dual Sessions,
Idris Muhammad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
Au Pairs,
Agent Orange,
Los Fastidios,
Hardrive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
The Beau Brummels,
Arab on Radar,
Lucky Dragons,
Surgeon,
Anthony Braxton,
Matthew Halsall,
The Star Department,
The Cowsills,
Althea and Donna,
Heaven 17,
Patti Smith,
Charles Mingus,
K-Klass,
EPMD,
Frankie Knuckles,
Royal Trux,
Hashim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pierre Henry,
DJ Style,
Robert Wyatt,
The Kinks,
Lakeside,
Glenn Branca,
Audionom,
Moby Grape,
Gichy Dan,
Scrapy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Adolescents,
Sarah Menescal,
Godley & Creme,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Mr. Review,
The Index,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.