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 Montenegro and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 Iggy Pop to the electroclash 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Holt,
CMW,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Godley & Creme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Aswad,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alton Ellis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Swans,
Eli Mardock,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Darondo,
Maleditus Sound,
The Durutti Column,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cramps,
Desert Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Patti Smith,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pole,
the Slits,
Duran Duran,
The Gap Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
Marc Almond,
Babytalk,
Hasil Adkins,
Mary Jane Girls,
Radiohead,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonny Sharrock,
Davy DMX,
Quando Quango,
New York Dolls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash,
Circle Jerks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Smiths,
The Blues Magoos,
Tomorrow,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.