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 San Marino and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sex Pistols to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Pantaleimon,
La Düsseldorf,
Robert Wyatt,
Charles Mingus,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jerry's Kids,
New York Dolls,
Lungfish,
Scion,
Amon Düül II,
Oblivians,
The Neon Judgement,
Crime,
Pylon,
John Cale,
Desert Stars,
Monolake,
Bauhaus,
Colin Newman,
Masters at Work,
Maleditus Sound,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick May,
The Five Americans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Shadows of Knight,
Cecil Taylor,
H. Thieme,
The Cramps,
Piero Umiliani,
The Happenings,
Rites of Spring,
The Fuzztones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Brass Construction,
Zapp,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gun Club,
Fear,
The Music Machine,
The Victims,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
OOIOO,
Roy Ayers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Leonard Cohen,
Mars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
New Age Steppers,
The Gories,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sandy B,
The Dirtbombs,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.