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 Equatorial Guinea and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
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 oboe 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 Michelle Simonal to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel 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?
Alice Coltrane,
Marmalade,
Donald Byrd,
Duran Duran,
Nirvana,
Eden Ahbez,
Supertramp,
The New Christs,
Iggy Pop,
Newcleus,
Brothers Johnson,
World's Most,
Babytalk,
Fat Boys,
Quadrant,
Desert Stars,
Blancmange,
Khruangbin,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Sheep,
Isaac Hayes,
The Leaves,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scientists,
Siglo XX,
Glenn Branca,
Organ,
Agent Orange,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
The Motions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Electric Prunes,
Archie Shepp,
This Heat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Patti Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ornette Coleman,
Visage,
Japan,
Idris Muhammad,
Rekid,
The Move,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joe Smooth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sällskapet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ultravox,
Kas Product,
Lindisfarne,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.