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 Taiwan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Accra and Accra.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Von Mondo to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
FM Einheit,
The Motions,
Television Personalities,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roger Hodgson,
Pussy Galore,
Johnny Osbourne,
Supertramp,
Al Stewart,
The United States of America,
Pharoah Sanders,
Magazine,
Joyce Sims,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Mojo Men,
Surgeon,
Symarip,
Faraquet,
The Evens,
Soul Sonic Force,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Wells,
H. Thieme,
Neu!,
Roxy Music,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Faust,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
David Bowie,
the Fania All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Funkadelic,
Bootsy Collins,
Mission of Burma,
Kerri Chandler,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Residents,
The Trojans,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
Brothers Johnson,
Circle Jerks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wings,
The Velvet Underground,
Cal Tjader,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marmalade,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
The Angels of Light,
E-Dancer,
Darondo,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.