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 Philippines and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Interpol to the grime 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
The Monks,
the Swans,
B.T. Express,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Doobie Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Stiv Bators,
Mary Jane Girls,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jawbox,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reuben Wilson,
10cc,
Pylon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeru the Damaja,
Subhumans,
The Angels of Light,
Duran Duran,
Eurythmics,
Absolute Body Control,
U.S. Maple,
The Toasters,
Bill Near,
DJ Sneak,
Yazoo,
Ken Boothe,
Alison Limerick,
Fugazi,
Adolescents,
Sex Pistols,
Pole,
Brick,
Saccharine Trust,
Barbara Tucker,
Connie Case,
Arcadia,
the Germs,
Heaven 17,
Stetsasonic,
Silicon Teens,
Unrelated Segments,
Arthur Verocai,
Wings,
The Cure,
Eve St. Jones,
Max Romeo,
The Smoke,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Black Dice,
Anakelly,
Supertramp,
James White and The Blacks,
Nik Kershaw,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kurtis Blow,
Stereo Dub,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.