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 Haiti and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
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 rhodes 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 Amon Düül to the rap 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
JFA,
Aural Exciters,
The Zeros,
Kerrie Biddell,
Drexciya,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lyres,
Whodini,
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mo-Dettes,
Interpol,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Black Moon,
Pantytec,
Soft Cell,
The Blues Magoos,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sparks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barry Ungar,
Juan Atkins,
David Bowie,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stiv Bators,
The Skatalites,
Popol Vuh,
The Associates,
Sight & Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang of Four,
MDC,
Lou Christie,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Charles Mingus,
The Evens,
Yazoo,
Peter and Kerry,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cluster,
Darondo,
New Age Steppers,
Roger Hodgson,
Grey Daturas,
K-Klass,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Unrelated Segments,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.