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 Djibouti and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cramps,
Jeff Lynne,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Soft Cell,
Skaos,
Leonard Cohen,
Sight & Sound,
The Toasters,
Q65,
Eddi Front,
EPMD,
Rapeman,
KRS-One,
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Cale,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nirvana,
Yaz,
Organ,
Sixth Finger,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Con Funk Shun,
Cal Tjader,
The Electric Prunes,
Animal Collective,
Althea and Donna,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sonic Youth,
Aloha Tigers,
Dead Boys,
David Bowie,
Duran Duran,
The Searchers,
X-Ray Spex,
Flipper,
The Invisible,
June Days,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Trojans,
Roy Ayers,
The Blues Magoos,
Excepter,
Brick,
Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Y Pants,
Pylon,
Yusef Lateef,
Derrick Morgan,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.