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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Velvet Underground to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp 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?
Eric Copeland,
Sun City Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-102,
Roger Hodgson,
Idris Muhammad,
The Misunderstood,
Black Moon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Little Man,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blues Magoos,
The Motions,
The Standells,
Letta Mbulu,
Fatback Band,
Youth Brigade,
Loose Ends,
Bill Wells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grey Daturas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ituana,
The Last Poets,
Gang Green,
Rekid,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Velvet Underground,
Monks,
Drexciya,
Cecil Taylor,
Animal Collective,
Sound Behaviour,
Boredoms,
Pylon,
Leonard Cohen,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Lower 48,
Fad Gadget,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brothers Johnson,
Shoche,
A Certain Ratio,
The Walker Brothers,
Cybotron,
Al Stewart,
Dark Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Guru Guru,
Roxette,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Invisible,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deadbeat,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rites of Spring,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.