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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Soft Machine,
Main Source,
Junior Murvin,
Sällskapet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scott Walker,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jimmy McGriff,
Man Parrish,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gladiators,
The Index,
Stereo Dub,
Kas Product,
Wolf Eyes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tomorrow,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Hasil Adkins,
John Holt,
Tim Buckley,
Aural Exciters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiohead,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Howard Jones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jerry's Kids,
Mad Mike,
Desert Stars,
The American Breed,
Public Enemy,
Suburban Knight,
Brothers Johnson,
Lower 48,
Sound Behaviour,
Q65,
Terrestrial Tones,
Depeche Mode,
Mark Hollis,
Symarip,
Kurtis Blow,
Jawbox,
The New Christs,
Dawn Penn,
The Martian,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ken Boothe,
The Dead C,
The Saints,
Lyres,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Cale,
Peter & Gordon,
Erasure,
The United States of America,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.