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 Greece and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Donny Hathaway to the rock 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Piero Umiliani,
Symarip,
Joe Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kas Product,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fad Gadget,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Duran Duran,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siglo XX,
The Real Kids,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ossler,
Index,
Anthony Braxton,
Bob Dylan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Al Stewart,
The Tremeloes,
Yazoo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stiv Bators,
Black Sheep,
Soft Cell,
Supertramp,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Oneida,
The Beau Brummels,
OOIOO,
Lalann,
the Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amon Düül II,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare,
Yusef Lateef,
Scion,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
10cc,
Magma,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dead Boys,
Todd Rundgren,
Tomorrow,
Lower 48,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
The Evens,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gabor Szabo,
The Count Five,
Glenn Branca,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.