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 Norway and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Kerrie Biddell to the grunge 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Althea and Donna,
Skarface,
Suicide,
World's Most,
Supertramp,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eden Ahbez,
Sonic Youth,
John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
The Red Krayola,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Görl,
Joy Division,
Roger Hodgson,
Panda Bear,
Rekid,
Rhythm & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Q and Not U,
Ultimate Spinach,
Connie Case,
Joe Finger,
Symarip,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Wake,
L. Decosne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Byrd,
MC5,
Sällskapet,
the Association,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dave Gahan,
Pantytec,
Q65,
Infiniti,
Blake Baxter,
The Vogues,
Animal Collective,
Ponytail,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Christie,
The Gun Club,
Deadbeat,
ABC,
New Order,
the Bar-Kays,
Severed Heads,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Green,
Aaron Thompson,
Aural Exciters,
Tears for Fears,
EPMD,
Sixth Finger,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.