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 Papua New Guinea 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
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 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 Big Daddy Kane to the funk 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Sällskapet,
La Düsseldorf,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Easy Going,
Iggy Pop,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
DNA,
Mars,
Althea and Donna,
These Immortal Souls,
Lou Reed,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Leonard Cohen,
Young Marble Giants,
Sixth Finger,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Sherman,
Jawbox,
Mr. Review,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Motorama,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra,
The Mojo Men,
Maleditus Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
LL Cool J,
Crooked Eye,
Jacob Miller,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lakeside,
Section 25,
The Fall,
Boredoms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Piero Umiliani,
Connie Case,
Godley & Creme,
Mantronix,
Albert Ayler,
The New Christs,
Japan,
Yusef Lateef,
Quando Quango,
The Invisible,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Make Up,
Blossom Toes,
Mission of Burma,
Deakin,
Interpol,
Electric Prunes,
Tomorrow,
Grey Daturas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.