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 Tonga 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 clarinet 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 Country Teasers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delon & Dalcan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Crime,
Marvin Gaye,
Roxy Music,
Hot Snakes,
Drexciya,
Malaria!,
T. Rex,
Lakeside,
The American Breed,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Five Americans,
Mad Mike,
Joy Division,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
John Lydon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Popol Vuh,
Sixth Finger,
June of 44,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Monks,
The Star Department,
Pulsallama,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Germs,
David Axelrod,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
L. Decosne,
Robert Hood,
The Leaves,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Terry Callier,
Ornette Coleman,
Sam Rivers,
Anthony Braxton,
Bauhaus,
Idris Muhammad,
Danielle Patucci,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar,
John Cale,
Cluster,
KRS-One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camouflage,
Henry Cow,
Rakim,
Deakin,
Leonard Cohen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Faust,
Inner City,
Sällskapet,
Kenny Larkin,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.