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 Monaco and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Gil Scott Heron to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Roxy Music. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
the Germs,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Wyatt,
the Normal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Guru Guru,
Bad Manners,
Spandau Ballet,
Scan 7,
Funkadelic,
Godley & Creme,
Deadbeat,
Cal Tjader,
Siglo XX,
Qualms,
Ten City,
Cheater Slicks,
Banda Bassotti,
Alice Coltrane,
Malaria!,
The Fall,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slick Rick,
Pere Ubu,
Oblivians,
Rotary Connection,
Pierre Henry,
Minnie Riperton,
Visage,
James White and The Blacks,
Anakelly,
Dark Day,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Reed,
The Vogues,
Ludus,
La Düsseldorf,
Hot Snakes,
Chris & Cosey,
Sun Ra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Talk Talk,
Vladislav Delay,
8 Eyed Spy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Erykah Badu,
The Mojo Men,
Wire,
The Fortunes,
Technova,
Bobby Byrd,
The Associates,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Knickerbockers,
Jacques Brel,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.