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 Nicaragua and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fat Boys to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Boredoms,
Grauzone,
Blossom Toes,
Pagans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Metal Thangz,
The Fugs,
The Gladiators,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Main Source,
Rotary Connection,
Sandy B,
Fluxion,
Lyres,
Zero Boys,
Loose Ends,
Wire,
Albert Ayler,
Chris Corsano,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Black Dice,
Schoolly D,
Icehouse,
Jimmy McGriff,
New York Dolls,
Peter and Kerry,
In Retrospect,
The Cure,
The New Christs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Swell Maps,
Gichy Dan,
Dual Sessions,
Minnie Riperton,
Fad Gadget,
Jandek,
Bill Wells,
L. Decosne,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
UT,
Black Bananas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cheater Slicks,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Banda Bassotti,
Kurtis Blow,
Steve Hackett,
Rapeman,
D'Angelo,
Sällskapet,
Glenn Branca,
Joensuu 1685,
Trumans Water,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.