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 Romania and from Edmonton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron 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 Sex Pistols to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Pulsallama,
Hashim,
The Searchers,
the Soft Cell,
Hasil Adkins,
Ice-T,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
Easy Going,
CMW,
Procol Harum,
Roy Ayers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bootsy Collins,
Groovy Waters,
Radio Birdman,
Glenn Branca,
Ronan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cosmic Jokers,
New Age Steppers,
Bauhaus,
U.S. Maple,
Organ,
The United States of America,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Max Romeo,
Nick Fraelich,
Fat Boys,
Ohio Players,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
The Moody Blues,
Intrusion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Charles Mingus,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joyce Sims,
Skriet,
Interpol,
Black Moon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Royal Trux,
The Residents,
L. Decosne,
Massinfluence,
Gang Green,
Bobby Byrd,
48th St. Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Scrapy,
The Fugs,
Thee Headcoats,
June Days,
Quando Quango,
Stereo Dub,
a-ha,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.