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 Cameroon and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gladiators to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joe Finger,
Second Layer,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eve St. Jones,
Talk Talk,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jerry's Kids,
Funky Four + One,
Cybotron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
48th St. Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
H. Thieme,
The Martian,
Thee Headcoats,
Khruangbin,
Ten City,
Spandau Ballet,
EPMD,
Charles Mingus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed,
New York Dolls,
New Order,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
June of 44,
UT,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Copeland,
U.S. Maple,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Quando Quango,
Sister Nancy,
Groovy Waters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Swans,
Minutemen,
Basic Channel,
Icehouse,
Ice-T,
Tubeway Army,
Kayak,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Moby Grape,
Eric Dolphy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Don Cherry,
Porter Ricks,
Brick,
PIL,
Yazoo,
Bill Near,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gun Club,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.