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 Kazakhstan and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Cal Tjader 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
ABBA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Erykah Badu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dirtbombs,
The Associates,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eurythmics,
Mandrill,
Skriet,
The Buckinghams,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scratch Acid,
Cybotron,
Dead Boys,
Quantec,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Pop Group,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stockholm Monsters,
Juan Atkins,
Sun Ra,
Jandek,
MDC,
Echospace,
Monks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
10cc,
Fat Boys,
Soft Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Organ,
Massinfluence,
The Cramps,
Eve St. Jones,
Bauhaus,
The Selecter,
The Trojans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacques Brel,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Busters,
These Immortal Souls,
Soul II Soul,
Camouflage,
Basic Channel,
Silicon Teens,
Rod Modell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Shuggie Otis,
Lyres,
JFA,
Eden Ahbez,
Roger Hodgson,
Kaleidoscope,
Deadbeat,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.