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 Tuvalu and from London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Hood to the techno 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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Tim Buckley,
Silicon Teens,
The Moody Blues,
June of 44,
Gregory Isaacs,
Loose Ends,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grandmaster Flash,
Donald Byrd,
Brass Construction,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soulsonic Force,
Erykah Badu,
Joyce Sims,
Kenny Larkin,
H. Thieme,
Swell Maps,
EPMD,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Minnie Riperton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Lydon,
Lucky Dragons,
Moebius,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Freddie Wadling,
Panda Bear,
The Durutti Column,
Procol Harum,
The Martian,
Don Cherry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Harmonia,
The Fall,
The Smoke,
Alphaville,
Boogie Down Productions,
Royal Trux,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Angels of Light,
T.S.O.L.,
Gichy Dan,
Qualms,
Al Stewart,
Television Personalities,
Gerry Rafferty,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zero Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Mars,
Malaria!,
Suburban Knight,
Scratch Acid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gun Club,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lungfish,
Rakim,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.