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 Moldova and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar 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 Rakim to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Nirvana,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fortunes,
Drexciya,
Rosa Yemen,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Fania All-Stars,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
Barclay James Harvest,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Hood,
Masters at Work,
Y Pants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Altered Images,
the Association,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lyres,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Schoolly D,
Josef K,
Funkadelic,
Fad Gadget,
Scratch Acid,
The Cramps,
a-ha,
The Birthday Party,
Motorama,
Todd Rundgren,
The Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
The Grass Roots,
Black Flag,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Symarip,
The Techniques,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Moon,
The Wake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Glenn Branca,
Eden Ahbez,
The Zeros,
Duran Duran,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Womack,
Boogie Down Productions,
Fela Kuti,
Rapeman,
Quadrant,
The Kinks,
Buzzcocks,
Toni Rubio,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Dead C,
Marmalade,
Hashim,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.