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 Pakistan and from London.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grime 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Urselle,
Aloha Tigers,
The Litter,
Massinfluence,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Drexciya,
Agitation Free,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grandmaster Flash,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Public Enemy,
Rufus Thomas,
June Days,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Leaves,
Donald Byrd,
Ten City,
Don Cherry,
Brick,
Cymande,
In Retrospect,
The Happenings,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
Television Personalities,
Average White Band,
The Red Krayola,
Sex Pistols,
Terry Callier,
The American Breed,
Smog,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cluster,
The Cure,
New Order,
Quantec,
FM Einheit,
Swell Maps,
Interpol,
Kurtis Blow,
L. Decosne,
Rapeman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harry Pussy,
Stereo Dub,
Chris Corsano,
The Moody Blues,
Alison Limerick,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ronan,
Soulsonic Force,
Ludus,
DJ Sneak,
Nils Olav,
Darondo,
Unwound,
Ornette Coleman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.