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 Macedonia and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Cluster to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Ohio Players,
Liliput,
Public Enemy,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cal Tjader,
The Gun Club,
Sandy B,
Aaron Thompson,
Chrome,
Funkadelic,
The Move,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scan 7,
Buzzcocks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mark Hollis,
Deakin,
Gabor Szabo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
Prince Buster,
Mantronix,
These Immortal Souls,
Fad Gadget,
Schoolly D,
DJ Sneak,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Judy Mowatt,
Lower 48,
Juan Atkins,
The Sound,
The Litter,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Oblivians,
the Soft Cell,
The Sonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Almond,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
Marine Girls,
Brick,
Minor Threat,
Trumans Water,
Surgeon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unwound,
The Seeds,
Alton Ellis,
Aswad,
Neil Young,
Nick Fraelich,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.