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 Sri Lanka and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rapeman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Talk Talk,
The Cramps,
Franke,
Aloha Tigers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang of Four,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Q and Not U,
The Mummies,
Marine Girls,
Delta 5,
The Gap Band,
Josef K,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Stooges,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eve St. Jones,
Saccharine Trust,
Oneida,
Khruangbin,
Nils Olav,
The Saints,
Nik Kershaw,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pagans,
Skaos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Bowie,
Public Enemy,
Dave Gahan,
The Fugs,
Sex Pistols,
Kool Moe Dee,
a-ha,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Altered Images,
Bobby Sherman,
Motorama,
Little Man,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cymande,
Toni Rubio,
Barrington Levy,
John Foxx,
Cameo,
Leonard Cohen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fear,
Yaz,
Don Cherry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Popol Vuh,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Count Five,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.