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 Gambia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sun Ra to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hoover,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sarah Menescal,
AZ,
Animal Collective,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mission of Burma,
Black Flag,
Nick Fraelich,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Pretty Things,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fugs,
Black Bananas,
Jesper Dahlback,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Unwound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Letta Mbulu,
The Star Department,
Franke,
John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
A Certain Ratio,
Ludus,
Sandy B,
Saccharine Trust,
The Misunderstood,
the Normal,
Reuben Wilson,
Trumans Water,
Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Kinks,
David McCallum,
Sister Nancy,
Joey Negro,
Con Funk Shun,
Erasure,
Lou Reed,
Make Up,
The Fire Engines,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultra Naté,
Max Romeo,
Ohio Players,
The Cramps,
Absolute Body Control,
Scrapy,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
Scratch Acid,
Neu!,
Gerry Rafferty,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.