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 Guatemala and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
the Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
10cc,
Jacob Miller,
F. McDonald,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neil Young,
Lyres,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Theoretical Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
The Selecter,
Gang Gang Dance,
Johnny Clarke,
Amon Düül II,
R.M.O.,
Wolf Eyes,
Infiniti,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Index,
Interpol,
David Bowie,
Skriet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DNA,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Normal,
Todd Rundgren,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Joey Negro,
Cybotron,
Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Hot Snakes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Johnny Osbourne,
Massinfluence,
the Association,
48th St. Collective,
Schoolly D,
The Birthday Party,
Aloha Tigers,
Roxy Music,
The Wake,
Robert Görl,
Faust,
Amon Düül,
EPMD,
Stereo Dub,
Moby Grape,
DJ Style,
Grey Daturas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harpers Bizarre,
Albert Ayler,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Bar-Kays,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.