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 Saudi Arabia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Terrestrial Tones to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Buckinghams,
Camouflage,
Gang Starr,
Sly & The Family Stone,
K-Klass,
Visage,
Country Teasers,
Chrome,
Cymande,
KRS-One,
Radiopuhelimet,
Graham Central Station,
Darondo,
Mr. Review,
Agitation Free,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bob Dylan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Zapp,
The Doors,
E-Dancer,
Laurel Aitken,
Buzzcocks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rufus Thomas,
Jesper Dahlback,
Swans,
Piero Umiliani,
Oneida,
The Angels of Light,
The Vogues,
Erasure,
Colin Newman,
Marmalade,
B.T. Express,
Ken Boothe,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Surgeon,
The Seeds,
Dead Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sun Ra,
The Sonics,
DNA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radiohead,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nick Fraelich,
Nik Kershaw,
Gang of Four,
Slick Rick,
Jacob Miller,
Public Enemy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Interpol,
Wire,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Underground Resistance,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.