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 Benin and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Y Pants,
Masters at Work,
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
Howard Jones,
Danielle Patucci,
Lakeside,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stereo Dub,
Warsaw,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lightning Bolt,
The Blues Magoos,
Matthew Bourne,
New York Dolls,
Monks,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy Collins,
Maleditus Sound,
Tom Boy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gastr Del Sol,
Althea and Donna,
Bill Wells,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Leaves,
Camouflage,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Index,
The Blackbyrds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scratch Acid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Oblivians,
Echospace,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Offenders,
Andrew Hill,
Fugazi,
Television,
Barbara Tucker,
the Normal,
Janne Schatter,
Vainqueur,
Second Layer,
Thompson Twins,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
Crooked Eye,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minor Threat,
Circle Jerks,
Deadbeat,
The Motions,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.