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 Cameroon and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Holger Czukay 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 Fire Engines 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 Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gap Band,
Cluster,
Q65,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Zero Boys,
John Holt,
Mandrill,
The Kinks,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag,
The Slackers,
Pere Ubu,
The Black Dice,
Lee Hazlewood,
Arab on Radar,
Crooked Eye,
Index,
AZ,
The Angels of Light,
Half Japanese,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Womack,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
The Music Machine,
The Smoke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Urselle,
X-102,
Pylon,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
The Divine Comedy,
The Star Department,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crash Course in Science,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pagans,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faraquet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lindisfarne,
Matthew Bourne,
Soft Machine,
The Selecter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.