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 Monaco and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 The Cowsills to the rap 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Severed Heads,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echospace,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monks,
Popol Vuh,
Porter Ricks,
Davy DMX,
Arthur Verocai,
Lindisfarne,
JFA,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gladiators,
Model 500,
Flamin' Groovies,
Magma,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gabor Szabo,
World's Most,
Idris Muhammad,
Outsiders,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bill Wells,
New Age Steppers,
EPMD,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Susan Cadogan,
Icehouse,
Tommy Roe,
Scion,
Scientists,
The Five Americans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Vogues,
Alison Limerick,
The Slackers,
Joey Negro,
Deakin,
The Birthday Party,
Khruangbin,
Black Moon,
Shoche,
The Mummies,
David Bowie,
Tim Buckley,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool Moe Dee,
Talk Talk,
Tom Boy,
Urselle,
John Cale,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.