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 Georgia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Madrid and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cameo to the funk 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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Zapp,
Los Fastidios,
E-Dancer,
Tommy Roe,
Minny Pops,
Mandrill,
Sight & Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sixth Finger,
Funkadelic,
Brass Construction,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Piero Umiliani,
Oblivians,
L. Decosne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Style,
The Move,
Carl Craig,
Althea and Donna,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Hashim,
Spoonie Gee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swell Maps,
Animal Collective,
the Soft Cell,
James White and The Blacks,
Grey Daturas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Foxx,
Surgeon,
These Immortal Souls,
Tim Buckley,
Angry Samoans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeff Mills,
Kurtis Blow,
Cymande,
Tres Demented,
Bootsy Collins,
Tomorrow,
Hasil Adkins,
Newcleus,
Joensuu 1685,
Index,
Barry Ungar,
Archie Shepp,
Hoover,
Fear,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Outsiders,
Can,
Tom Boy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Andrew Hill,
Mantronix,
Shoche,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.