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 Honduras and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Desert Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Kenny Larkin,
Fatback Band,
Amon Düül,
Rosa Yemen,
Byron Stingily,
Crime,
Groovy Waters,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Smog,
Crispian St. Peters,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Steve Hackett,
The Stooges,
The Fugs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Magazine,
Joensuu 1685,
Archie Shepp,
Malaria!,
Bobby Womack,
Blake Baxter,
Marmalade,
Donny Hathaway,
Scott Walker,
Rapeman,
The Leaves,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Television Personalities,
Television,
The Trojans,
Bootsy Collins,
John Holt,
Monolake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
Average White Band,
Aural Exciters,
Chrome,
Infiniti,
Guru Guru,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Sound,
Nils Olav,
Rekid,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Searchers,
Cecil Taylor,
Max Romeo,
Kayak,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.