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 Syria and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mars to the dance 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Visage,
Lungfish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Byron Stingily,
Ituana,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
Blancmange,
Supertramp,
Iggy Pop,
Vladislav Delay,
Mantronix,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Residents,
The Mighty Diamonds,
David Bowie,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terry Callier,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Outsiders,
Letta Mbulu,
Magazine,
Minnie Riperton,
Radio Birdman,
Shuggie Otis,
Mr. Review,
Cybotron,
Stetsasonic,
Banda Bassotti,
Barbara Tucker,
Ossler,
Grauzone,
The Golliwogs,
Bad Manners,
China Crisis,
Anthony Braxton,
The Vogues,
Excepter,
Hasil Adkins,
Moebius,
Nils Olav,
Charles Mingus,
Tomorrow,
Aaron Thompson,
Morten Harket,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tom Boy,
Harpers Bizarre,
KRS-One,
Deakin,
Fatback Band,
Gang of Four,
Minny Pops,
Audionom,
Boredoms,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Steve Hackett,
the Association,
Sixth Finger,
Procol Harum,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.