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 Bangladesh and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Funkadelic to the grunge 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Mo-Dettes,
Angry Samoans,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Byrd,
Johnny Clarke,
The Tremeloes,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Adolescents,
The Fugs,
The Walker Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Tommy Roe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crooked Eye,
Eden Ahbez,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scientists,
Saccharine Trust,
Severed Heads,
Leonard Cohen,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
Pierre Henry,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
Camouflage,
A Certain Ratio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agent Orange,
Jawbox,
Main Source,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Agitation Free,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Cale,
Sarah Menescal,
ABBA,
Cameo,
Sun City Girls,
Prince Buster,
Tomorrow,
the Human League,
Faraquet,
Monolake,
Erasure,
Public Enemy,
Index,
Hot Snakes,
Echospace,
Grauzone,
Hasil Adkins,
Andrew Hill,
cv313,
Audionom,
The Vogues,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.