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 Belgium and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Anakelly to the crunk 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Iggy Pop,
Nick Fraelich,
Mark Hollis,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Names,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Skaos,
Josef K,
Brick,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Simply Red,
Hashim,
Cal Tjader,
Ituana,
Juan Atkins,
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
New Age Steppers,
Sixth Finger,
Johnny Clarke,
Aural Exciters,
Hot Snakes,
Animal Collective,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Pretty Things,
Surgeon,
Kas Product,
Spandau Ballet,
The Modern Lovers,
Theoretical Girls,
Television,
Thee Headcoats,
Patti Smith,
the Soft Cell,
John Cale,
The Move,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pagans,
Barry Ungar,
Lakeside,
Fluxion,
Eve St. Jones,
Make Up,
Mo-Dettes,
Pantaleimon,
The Mojo Men,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Star Department,
The Invisible,
8 Eyed Spy,
Godley & Creme,
Colin Newman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jeff Lynne,
Moss Icon,
Kayak,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.