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 Benin and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Kinks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Christie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Silicon Teens,
The Buckinghams,
Eurythmics,
Lungfish,
Sparks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sight & Sound,
EPMD,
Minor Threat,
Bobby Sherman,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nick Fraelich,
Buzzcocks,
Lalann,
Eddi Front,
The Smiths,
Simply Red,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Index,
Eden Ahbez,
CMW,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Normal,
The Gun Club,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Patti Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
Motorama,
Yellowson,
One Last Wish,
E-Dancer,
Erykah Badu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Last Poets,
Pantytec,
The Dead C,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Half Japanese,
Moss Icon,
Absolute Body Control,
Clear Light,
Lebanon Hanover,
ABC,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Pylon,
Von Mondo,
Mantronix,
Pagans,
Organ,
Wings,
The Associates,
Dorothy Ashby,
Charles Mingus,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.