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 Iraq and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Durutti Column to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Dead C,
Motorama,
Japan,
Magazine,
Newcleus,
The Black Dice,
The Birthday Party,
Gabor Szabo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Trumans Water,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
James White and The Blacks,
cv313,
Aloha Tigers,
Matthew Halsall,
Au Pairs,
Metal Thangz,
The Tremeloes,
Alice Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
Pagans,
The Raincoats,
Patti Smith,
Wings,
Joe Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
The Kinks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eric Copeland,
The Monochrome Set,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang of Four,
Y Pants,
The Fugs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Susan Cadogan,
Dawn Penn,
Organ,
Kayak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Germs,
Jawbox,
Talk Talk,
Laurel Aitken,
Kurtis Blow,
Harmonia,
Pylon,
The Move,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lakeside,
The Seeds,
Main Source,
Can,
Bush Tetras,
Gong,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.