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 Togo and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 Philadelphia and Seoul.
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 theremin 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 David Bowie to the funk 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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
The Zeros,
Harry Pussy,
B.T. Express,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oblivians,
Ultra Naté,
The American Breed,
Youth Brigade,
The Velvet Underground,
The Index,
The Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Erykah Badu,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Remains,
Reuben Wilson,
Skarface,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radiohead,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Zapp,
Cheater Slicks,
A Certain Ratio,
The Skatalites,
Black Sheep,
Nation of Ulysses,
Chris Corsano,
Curtis Mayfield,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott Heron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fluxion,
Albert Ayler,
The Pretty Things,
MDC,
Amon Düül II,
Robert Görl,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fugs,
Scratch Acid,
Josef K,
Con Funk Shun,
Anthony Braxton,
Faust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monochrome Set,
Delon & Dalcan,
Au Pairs,
Stetsasonic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sparks,
U.S. Maple,
the Slits,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.