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 Brazil and from Spokane.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 X-Ray Spex to the crunk 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
Little Man,
Fugazi,
the Soft Cell,
Crispy Ambulance,
Donny Hathaway,
Mantronix,
Intrusion,
Tears for Fears,
Joey Negro,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Wells,
The J.B.'s,
Nation of Ulysses,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultra Naté,
Cybotron,
Marine Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mark Hollis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fat Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Boz Scaggs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Knickerbockers,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
The Moleskins,
Fatback Band,
Eric Dolphy,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sixth Finger,
Y Pants,
Boredoms,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Music Machine,
Morten Harket,
Roxy Music,
Ten City,
Outsiders,
L. Decosne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Pus,
The Names,
In Retrospect,
Hot Snakes,
China Crisis,
Fela Kuti,
MDC,
Negative Approach,
Fear,
Byron Stingily,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.