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 Belgium and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Trumans Water to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Absolute Body Control,
Susan Cadogan,
Henry Cow,
Al Stewart,
Camberwell Now,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scientists,
Model 500,
F. McDonald,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Das Ding,
Talk Talk,
Eddi Front,
Junior Murvin,
Harry Pussy,
Audionom,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Siglo XX,
Faraquet,
Judy Mowatt,
Cluster,
Duran Duran,
The Velvet Underground,
Reagan Youth,
Jandek,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
Lungfish,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mummies,
the Slits,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cheater Slicks,
Dead Boys,
Guru Guru,
Shoche,
Angry Samoans,
Circle Jerks,
Stiv Bators,
The Sonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Order,
Howard Jones,
Roy Ayers,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
The Blues Magoos,
Pantaleimon,
Swell Maps,
JFA,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
Patti Smith,
David McCallum,
Matthew Bourne,
Rufus Thomas,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.