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 Palau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Cale to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Terry Callier,
Howard Jones,
Jimmy McGriff,
Curtis Mayfield,
Angry Samoans,
Sonic Youth,
H. Thieme,
Tim Buckley,
The Pretty Things,
Shuggie Otis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soulsonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
Interpol,
Henry Cow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rod Modell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crime,
Eric Copeland,
Liliput,
Minny Pops,
The Cramps,
The Tremeloes,
The J.B.'s,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
One Last Wish,
Skaos,
Grey Daturas,
The Birthday Party,
Masters at Work,
Laurel Aitken,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pharoah Sanders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Bronski Beat,
David McCallum,
Byron Stingily,
Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
Brass Construction,
Lakeside,
Zero Boys,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Panda Bear,
The Vogues,
The Count Five,
Stiv Bators,
Whodini,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deadbeat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Yazoo,
Oblivians,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.