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 Slovakia and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
La Düsseldorf,
B.T. Express,
The Dave Clark Five,
Yusef Lateef,
Vainqueur,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pole,
Mr. Review,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Archie Shepp,
Easy Going,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Todd Terry,
Hasil Adkins,
Stereo Dub,
Quadrant,
Lungfish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barclay James Harvest,
Silicon Teens,
Danielle Patucci,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Zero Boys,
Joy Division,
Simply Red,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eddi Front,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
These Immortal Souls,
The Star Department,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nils Olav,
The Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sun Ra,
Nico,
Lou Reed,
Eli Mardock,
Minnie Riperton,
John Cale,
The Cowsills,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gories,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fall,
Robert Hood,
Ultra Naté,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.