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 Madagascar and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 The Angels of Light to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
Silicon Teens,
Gichy Dan,
B.T. Express,
The Pop Group,
Magma,
Faust,
Aural Exciters,
Theoretical Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camberwell Now,
Lindisfarne,
Minny Pops,
John Cale,
Bobby Womack,
Sixth Finger,
The Cowsills,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Graham Central Station,
Bush Tetras,
Khruangbin,
Dennis Brown,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris & Cosey,
The Star Department,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
Sound Behaviour,
Matthew Bourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Darondo,
Porter Ricks,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Smoke,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
Eden Ahbez,
Stiv Bators,
Siglo XX,
Agent Orange,
The Gun Club,
Groovy Waters,
Jawbox,
Nas,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soft Cell,
Tres Demented,
Joyce Sims,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kas Product,
Blake Baxter,
Wasted Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harry Pussy,
Desert Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.