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 United States and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Nick Fraelich to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
Rites of Spring,
The Names,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Sound,
David Axelrod,
Talk Talk,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eric B and Rakim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magazine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Bootsy Collins,
Howard Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aural Exciters,
The Saints,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Stiv Bators,
Cheater Slicks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Massinfluence,
Babytalk,
Kurtis Blow,
The Selecter,
Los Fastidios,
Surgeon,
Todd Rundgren,
Interpol,
Main Source,
Ultravox,
Bill Wells,
Matthew Halsall,
Underground Resistance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ice-T,
E-Dancer,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Copeland,
Darondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Smog,
Suicide,
Ohio Players,
The Gladiators,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Country Teasers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marc Almond,
Sällskapet,
Eric Dolphy,
Donald Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jacques Brel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fugs,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
Banda Bassotti,
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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.