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 Namibia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New York Dolls to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Stooges,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Graham Central Station,
Reagan Youth,
Half Japanese,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Byron Stingily,
The Litter,
Scan 7,
Theoretical Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Birthday Party,
Fear,
Scion,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultra Naté,
Porter Ricks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Iggy Pop,
Mantronix,
Grey Daturas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
D'Angelo,
Robert Wyatt,
ABBA,
Joensuu 1685,
Bill Wells,
Cymande,
Yellowson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Model 500,
H. Thieme,
Kurtis Blow,
Wire,
Outsiders,
Sparks,
Yazoo,
Ponytail,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pantytec,
Avey Tare,
The Raincoats,
The Sonics,
Surgeon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rotary Connection,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.