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 Gambia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
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 chamberlin 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the crunk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Letta Mbulu,
Barbara Tucker,
The Detroit Cobras,
Reuben Wilson,
The Durutti Column,
Slave,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dual Sessions,
Adolescents,
The Young Rascals,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Section 25,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Womack,
Scan 7,
Fad Gadget,
Swell Maps,
Excepter,
Lucky Dragons,
The Five Americans,
Yellowson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Niagra,
Maurizio,
Peter & Gordon,
The Walker Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
Harmonia,
Mo-Dettes,
Flipper,
Pulsallama,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
The Cramps,
Sex Pistols,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dirtbombs,
Joensuu 1685,
Suburban Knight,
Franke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maleditus Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aswad,
Cymande,
One Last Wish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bronski Beat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marine Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
LL Cool J,
Black Moon,
Eric Dolphy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lebanon Hanover,
Can,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.