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 Dominican Republic and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Fire Engines to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Mark Hollis,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Beau Brummels,
The Angels of Light,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minutemen,
Cluster,
Josef K,
Country Teasers,
Minnie Riperton,
Vladislav Delay,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
OOIOO,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Das Ding,
Pulsallama,
Lakeside,
K-Klass,
John Holt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Toni Rubio,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Trojans,
Marc Almond,
Dead Boys,
Bill Near,
The Gladiators,
Dual Sessions,
X-Ray Spex,
David Axelrod,
Lightning Bolt,
Bauhaus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
Nils Olav,
Cymande,
the Bar-Kays,
China Crisis,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Sex Pistols,
Oblivians,
James White and The Blacks,
Ludus,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kaleidoscope,
The Slackers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cecil Taylor,
Masters at Work,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mummies,
Soul II Soul,
Slave,
Little Man,
The Associates,
Derrick Morgan,
Reuben Wilson,
Thompson Twins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.