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 Oman and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Quantec to the disco 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
ABC,
Unwound,
The Moleskins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Christie,
10cc,
Maurizio,
the Association,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sällskapet,
Jacob Miller,
Erykah Badu,
Country Teasers,
Ultra Naté,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brothers Johnson,
Symarip,
Outsiders,
X-101,
Popol Vuh,
Parry Music,
Eric Dolphy,
The Music Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crispian St. Peters,
Loose Ends,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moebius,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Interpol,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ultravox,
Can,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Starr,
Donald Byrd,
Terrestrial Tones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
Stetsasonic,
The Seeds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lower 48,
Duran Duran,
Connie Case,
Basic Channel,
Hoover,
Peter and Kerry,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Lydon,
Terry Callier,
Smog,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül,
T. Rex,
Japan,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.