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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 In Retrospect to the jazz 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
The Smoke,
Magma,
a-ha,
Amazonics,
Mark Hollis,
Camouflage,
the Bar-Kays,
DNA,
Lalann,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sonics,
Mantronix,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Accadde A,
Prince Buster,
Tommy Roe,
Ornette Coleman,
Thompson Twins,
The Cowsills,
Matthew Halsall,
Scratch Acid,
Faraquet,
Iggy Pop,
Terry Callier,
The Index,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Susan Cadogan,
Dawn Penn,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pagans,
Los Fastidios,
Michelle Simonal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
B.T. Express,
Schoolly D,
Patti Smith,
Lou Christie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vainqueur,
Public Image Ltd.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
Inner City,
David Bowie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Loose Ends,
Marc Almond,
Robert Görl,
Aural Exciters,
The Happenings,
The Human League,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dual Sessions,
Half Japanese,
Rod Modell,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.