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 Australia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
L. Decosne,
Scrapy,
Severed Heads,
Matthew Halsall,
Mary Jane Girls,
The American Breed,
Gichy Dan,
Black Bananas,
The Tremeloes,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fall,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monolake,
Fat Boys,
The Moody Blues,
The United States of America,
Unrelated Segments,
Maurizio,
Tubeway Army,
Japan,
Donald Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Circle Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Robert Hood,
Ituana,
Lou Reed,
Khruangbin,
Wally Richardson,
Ornette Coleman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Man Parrish,
Motorama,
Susan Cadogan,
The Moleskins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Intrusion,
The Trojans,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
Janne Schatter,
Cal Tjader,
Essential Logic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Popol Vuh,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Hill,
Soul II Soul,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barbara Tucker,
Kaleidoscope,
Scott Walker,
Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
The Beau Brummels,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.