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 Chad and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Cecil Taylor 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Bobby Byrd,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Morten Harket,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
UT,
The Fugs,
Pole,
The Misunderstood,
Peter & Gordon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eurythmics,
the Sonics,
World's Most,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
Bang On A Can,
The Velvet Underground,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fad Gadget,
Intrusion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thompson Twins,
Yaz,
The Doors,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ituana,
The Searchers,
Eric Copeland,
Laurel Aitken,
Roxy Music,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Kerri Chandler,
Brass Construction,
Leonard Cohen,
Drexciya,
The Names,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Bar-Kays,
Quantec,
Minny Pops,
Girls At Our Best!,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wire,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Motions,
Glenn Branca,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slackers,
Pierre Henry,
Joyce Sims,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.