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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 48th St. Collective to the disco 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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rekid,
Pylon,
Freddie Wadling,
The Modern Lovers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cecil Taylor,
This Heat,
John Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
Eli Mardock,
Siglo XX,
Joy Division,
Country Teasers,
EPMD,
Pulsallama,
Young Marble Giants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Boredoms,
Neu!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun City Girls,
Eddi Front,
Charles Mingus,
Bobby Womack,
The Electric Prunes,
Stereo Dub,
Chris Corsano,
Ludus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Buckinghams,
Joyce Sims,
Suburban Knight,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Michelle Simonal,
UT,
The Real Kids,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cure,
Mo-Dettes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Electric Prunes,
The Barracudas,
Lucky Dragons,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Cale,
Radiopuhelimet,
Urselle,
Bill Near,
Joey Negro,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Byron Stingily,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.