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 Kosovo and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Womack to the rock 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
The Cure,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nas,
Chris Corsano,
The Golliwogs,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camberwell Now,
Faraquet,
Niagra,
Tommy Roe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joe Finger,
DJ Sneak,
Joyce Sims,
The Pretty Things,
Minutemen,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Das Ding,
Jeru the Damaja,
One Last Wish,
H. Thieme,
June Days,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Human League,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mars,
Zapp,
Blancmange,
Pharoah Sanders,
Liliput,
The Names,
ABBA,
Todd Rundgren,
Adolescents,
Graham Central Station,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Wyatt,
Boz Scaggs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Parry Music,
The United States of America,
Public Enemy,
The Seeds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Television Personalities,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The New Christs,
the Slits,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scan 7,
Moby Grape,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tubeway Army,
Anakelly,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Soft Cell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.