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 Micronesia and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 One Last Wish to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
K-Klass,
Boz Scaggs,
James White and The Blacks,
Television,
Scion,
Siglo XX,
Half Japanese,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang On A Can,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Style,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fat Boys,
the Swans,
Interpol,
Crash Course in Science,
Nick Fraelich,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minny Pops,
Gabor Szabo,
The Stooges,
Drexciya,
The Birthday Party,
Spandau Ballet,
Wally Richardson,
Pulsallama,
The Five Americans,
Robert Hood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Vogues,
The Happenings,
Soft Cell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alphaville,
Cecil Taylor,
A Certain Ratio,
Marvin Gaye,
Ronnie Foster,
Piero Umiliani,
Tres Demented,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Sheep,
Mandrill,
Colin Newman,
Faraquet,
F. McDonald,
Whodini,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sun City Girls,
FM Einheit,
Loose Ends,
The Residents,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ossler,
Laurel Aitken,
Letta Mbulu,
Grey Daturas,
Average White Band,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.