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 Lithuania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Marine Girls to the rap 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Eurythmics,
Main Source,
Crash Course in Science,
Gong,
Morten Harket,
Black Bananas,
Neil Young,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sixth Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Schoolly D,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Residents,
Index,
Japan,
The Dead C,
Hasil Adkins,
Leonard Cohen,
Howard Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Colin Newman,
the Normal,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pantaleimon,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Neon Judgement,
Terry Callier,
Laurel Aitken,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sam Rivers,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobby Womack,
Sonic Youth,
The Music Machine,
Quantec,
Section 25,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
Angry Samoans,
Lungfish,
Fat Boys,
R.M.O.,
Anthony Braxton,
The Red Krayola,
Inner City,
Grauzone,
Delta 5,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Byrd,
Simply Red,
Sister Nancy,
FM Einheit,
Jacques Brel,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gerry Rafferty,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.