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 Bahrain and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba 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 Lou Reed & John Cale 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Smog,
Neil Young,
Sandy B,
The Moleskins,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Ronnie Foster,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eddi Front,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fuzztones,
Ultravox,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alison Limerick,
Hoover,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
The Raincoats,
These Immortal Souls,
Gichy Dan,
Skriet,
U.S. Maple,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Blackbyrds,
Negative Approach,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joe Finger,
Black Pus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thee Headcoats,
Pulsallama,
Symarip,
Brick,
Heaven 17,
David Bowie,
Oneida,
Arab on Radar,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
Warsaw,
Pussy Galore,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hardrive,
The Motions,
Joey Negro,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiohead,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Gang of Four,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Techniques,
Arthur Verocai,
Moby Grape,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.