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 Poland and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
A Certain Ratio,
The Detroit Cobras,
June of 44,
Organ,
The Gladiators,
Ornette Coleman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lightning Bolt,
Terry Callier,
Warsaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fall,
Sugar Minott,
Marshall Jefferson,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cecil Taylor,
Jacques Brel,
Wally Richardson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Andrew Hill,
Howard Jones,
Arthur Verocai,
Sound Behaviour,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review,
Oneida,
Subhumans,
Neil Young,
Wasted Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Birthday Party,
Lindisfarne,
DJ Sneak,
David McCallum,
JFA,
Echospace,
Lalo Schifrin,
Index,
Jesper Dahlback,
Malaria!,
These Immortal Souls,
Boredoms,
Archie Shepp,
Mad Mike,
Quadrant,
Bob Dylan,
The Grass Roots,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Moleskins,
Joyce Sims,
The Buckinghams,
Arab on Radar,
Patti Smith,
Hardrive,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shuggie Otis,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.