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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
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 Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Michael McDonald 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 Eli Mardock to the grunge 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The Smoke,
Organ,
The Happenings,
The Last Poets,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hasil Adkins,
New York Dolls,
Isaac Hayes,
Swell Maps,
Jacob Miller,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fire Engines,
MC5,
Harmonia,
Brothers Johnson,
Howard Jones,
Scrapy,
Make Up,
The Angels of Light,
The Gladiators,
Leonard Cohen,
Cybotron,
Deadbeat,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The J.B.'s,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gang Starr,
Donny Hathaway,
Tim Buckley,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boredoms,
The Victims,
Excepter,
The Motions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Man Parrish,
Soul Sonic Force,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lyres,
Rufus Thomas,
LL Cool J,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
Sexual Harrassment,
Parry Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
The New Christs,
K-Klass,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers,
Cymande,
Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Walker Brothers,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.