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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Glambeats Corp. to the dance 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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cameo,
Warren Ellis,
The Grass Roots,
H. Thieme,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Dirtbombs,
Aloha Tigers,
Warsaw,
Slick Rick,
The Durutti Column,
Erasure,
Kool Moe Dee,
U.S. Maple,
Brass Construction,
the Soft Cell,
Howard Jones,
John Cale,
June of 44,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Theoretical Girls,
Babytalk,
Camouflage,
Maurizio,
Outsiders,
The Leaves,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang of Four,
cv313,
Jesper Dahlback,
Erykah Badu,
Trumans Water,
Zero Boys,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Average White Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gichy Dan,
Vladislav Delay,
Donald Byrd,
The Buckinghams,
Hot Snakes,
The Walker Brothers,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers,
Deadbeat,
New Age Steppers,
Royal Trux,
The Moleskins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Misunderstood,
Ludus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick Morgan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.