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 Thailand and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Velvet Underground to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Main Source,
Hardrive,
Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
Nils Olav,
Shoche,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Whodini,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Underground Resistance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Maurizio,
The Shadows of Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Fatback Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Section 25,
The Offenders,
The Modern Lovers,
Al Stewart,
R.M.O.,
Brick,
Andrew Hill,
Wire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Thee Headcoats,
Make Up,
The Real Kids,
Popol Vuh,
Franke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mandrill,
X-Ray Spex,
These Immortal Souls,
Sarah Menescal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
MDC,
David Bowie,
Ponytail,
Neu!,
Clear Light,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hashim,
Minutemen,
Masters at Work,
Urselle,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Gang Starr,
Bootsy Collins,
Eli Mardock,
The Names,
The Wake,
DJ Style,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.