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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Heaven 17 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Little Man,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
MC5,
Brick,
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
Procol Harum,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slits,
Maurizio,
Ohio Players,
Main Source,
Pantaleimon,
L. Decosne,
the Normal,
Chris & Cosey,
Charles Mingus,
Livin' Joy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Tremeloes,
Fear,
Thee Headcoats,
Sandy B,
The Knickerbockers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shoche,
Tears for Fears,
R.M.O.,
Hasil Adkins,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Desert Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aaron Thompson,
Lower 48,
Glenn Branca,
Pole,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
World's Most,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flash Fearless,
Newcleus,
Goldenarms,
Dorothy Ashby,
Henry Cow,
Black Flag,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxy Music,
The Gories,
Pussy Galore,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thompson Twins,
Max Romeo,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
Carl Craig,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.