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 Kuwait and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mighty Diamonds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Camberwell Now,
Inner City,
Roxette,
Magazine,
Clear Light,
Arab on Radar,
Barclay James Harvest,
World's Most,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maurizio,
Deepchord,
John Coltrane,
The Smoke,
The Happenings,
Outsiders,
Harry Pussy,
Bauhaus,
Trumans Water,
AZ,
Bobbi Humphrey,
KRS-One,
The Gladiators,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
Brass Construction,
New York Dolls,
Hoover,
Niagra,
Moby Grape,
Schoolly D,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Drexciya,
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alison Limerick,
Howard Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
The Human League,
Warsaw,
Organ,
OOIOO,
Roy Ayers,
Godley & Creme,
Subhumans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Donald Byrd,
The Doors,
The Martian,
The Motions,
Dead Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
MDC,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
Excepter,
Prince Buster,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.