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 Guinea-Bissau and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Black Moon,
Pulsallama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Five Americans,
Peter & Gordon,
Moss Icon,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q and Not U,
kango's stein massive,
Avey Tare,
The Flesh Eaters,
Spandau Ballet,
Organ,
Whodini,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stetsasonic,
Zero Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dead Boys,
Amon Düül II,
Vainqueur,
Rufus Thomas,
The Leaves,
Charles Mingus,
Von Mondo,
Terry Callier,
Donny Hathaway,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
Boredoms,
Pierre Henry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Little Man,
Echospace,
Animal Collective,
Zapp,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Reuben Wilson,
Heaven 17,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall,
Tres Demented,
Ornette Coleman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
David McCallum,
Beasts of Bourbon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
June Days,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sex Pistols,
Underground Resistance,
The Young Rascals,
Donald Byrd,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.