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 Venezuela and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Divine Comedy to the techno 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Pus,
B.T. Express,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Sheep,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Monks,
Fatback Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Faraquet,
Ronan,
Intrusion,
Scion,
Morten Harket,
MDC,
Underground Resistance,
The Five Americans,
Patti Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Barry Ungar,
Stiv Bators,
The Blackbyrds,
The Young Rascals,
Pole,
Duran Duran,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bluetip,
John Cale,
Toni Rubio,
Desert Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül II,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed,
Robert Hood,
Average White Band,
Schoolly D,
Inner City,
The Smiths,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Connie Case,
Make Up,
Supertramp,
Bobby Womack,
Peter & Gordon,
Amon Düül,
Siglo XX,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalann,
Minutemen,
The Knickerbockers,
The Pretty Things,
The Velvet Underground,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.