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 Afghanistan and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jawbox to the grime 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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
EPMD,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
Cheater Slicks,
Lyres,
Deadbeat,
Lakeside,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Real Kids,
David Axelrod,
The Raincoats,
Mantronix,
Roger Hodgson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Residents,
Terrestrial Tones,
Piero Umiliani,
The Alarm Clocks,
Archie Shepp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Intrusion,
These Immortal Souls,
Robert Wyatt,
Minor Threat,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Saints,
Bootsy Collins,
Procol Harum,
Wally Richardson,
Jandek,
Ludus,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moleskins,
Dark Day,
Aloha Tigers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Panda Bear,
Blancmange,
Alphaville,
Sonny Sharrock,
Faust,
Joe Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wings,
Ultravox,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Skaos,
Jacob Miller,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
Chrome,
Pussy Galore,
Sex Pistols,
Black Moon,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.