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 Kuwait and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar 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 Amon Düül to the crunk 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Alice Coltrane,
Quadrant,
the Bar-Kays,
a-ha,
Radiopuhelimet,
June of 44,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deakin,
Nik Kershaw,
Marmalade,
Theoretical Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Unrelated Segments,
Joensuu 1685,
Loose Ends,
The Barracudas,
Donny Hathaway,
Yazoo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aswad,
Oblivians,
The Zeros,
The Smiths,
Oneida,
The Searchers,
Aural Exciters,
Stiv Bators,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blues Magoos,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Sneak,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
KRS-One,
Sonny Sharrock,
Slick Rick,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare,
Josef K,
Excepter,
Steve Hackett,
Section 25,
Yusef Lateef,
Nils Olav,
The Busters,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mantronix,
Swans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kas Product,
Interpol,
Agent Orange,
Ituana,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.