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 Bahrain and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Arthur Verocai to the crunk 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
Ultravox,
Rakim,
Chrome,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
Aswad,
Neu!,
Yellowson,
Lightning Bolt,
The Standells,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moody Blues,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scion,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
Archie Shepp,
Harry Pussy,
Byron Stingily,
Massinfluence,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camberwell Now,
Can,
B.T. Express,
Gang Gang Dance,
Saccharine Trust,
Ohio Players,
Gabor Szabo,
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
KRS-One,
The Walker Brothers,
Symarip,
Althea and Donna,
Khruangbin,
New York Dolls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Excepter,
Davy DMX,
Icehouse,
Sugar Minott,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flipper,
The Fall,
Rites of Spring,
Bauhaus,
The Cure,
Sun Ra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yusef Lateef,
Anakelly,
Iggy Pop,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.