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 Syria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Robert Wyatt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Brass Construction,
Charles Mingus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monolake,
48th St. Collective,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultra Naté,
Reuben Wilson,
June of 44,
Scion,
Joe Finger,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sun Ra,
Hoover,
Davy DMX,
Heaven 17,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Crime,
In Retrospect,
Pulsallama,
Bill Wells,
Franke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oblivians,
Lungfish,
Neil Young,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Loose Ends,
Flamin' Groovies,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Morten Harket,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Agent Orange,
Stereo Dub,
Mission of Burma,
The Sonics,
Deakin,
The Blues Magoos,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Gang Starr,
The Busters,
Silicon Teens,
Skriet,
Judy Mowatt,
Harry Pussy,
Warren Ellis,
The Happenings,
U.S. Maple,
Minutemen,
D'Angelo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
B.T. Express,
Ultravox,
The Smoke,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.