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 Monaco and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Parry Music to the electroclash 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Bad Manners,
Symarip,
Althea and Donna,
Swell Maps,
Bush Tetras,
Sonny Sharrock,
La Düsseldorf,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
Barry Ungar,
The Angels of Light,
Godley & Creme,
Eurythmics,
Delon & Dalcan,
Duran Duran,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gong,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lungfish,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scratch Acid,
Kaleidoscope,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rosa Yemen,
Reagan Youth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Chris & Cosey,
Rapeman,
Lyres,
Minny Pops,
kango's stein massive,
Black Sheep,
Connie Case,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Flipper,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Motions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aural Exciters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Durutti Column,
The Raincoats,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Neon Judgement,
Bauhaus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
China Crisis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantytec,
The Victims,
Donald Byrd,
Gang Starr,
DNA,
Whodini,
Aswad,
L. Decosne,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.