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 Uzbekistan and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Harry Pussy to the crunk 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
The Durutti Column,
Lower 48,
Television,
Jeru the Damaja,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Heaven 17,
Liliput,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funky Four + One,
Anthony Braxton,
Japan,
Goldenarms,
The Saints,
Siglo XX,
Flipper,
kango's stein massive,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bang On A Can,
Henry Cow,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Camouflage,
Lindisfarne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Fraelich,
Swans,
The Associates,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker,
The Remains,
Archie Shepp,
Juan Atkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Saccharine Trust,
PIL,
Ice-T,
Barrington Levy,
Deadbeat,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Byron Stingily,
Kenny Larkin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Pantytec,
Eric Copeland,
Flamin' Groovies,
Johnny Clarke,
Parry Music,
Kayak,
Television Personalities,
Michelle Simonal,
Bronski Beat,
Marine Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Pagans,
Matthew Bourne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
In Retrospect,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.