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 Nepal and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Quando Quango to the grime 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare,
Lakeside,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
John Lydon,
Nas,
Cybotron,
Outsiders,
Rosa Yemen,
Byron Stingily,
Janne Schatter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tres Demented,
Altered Images,
The Names,
Public Enemy,
Infiniti,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eddi Front,
The Human League,
Bluetip,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fluxion,
The Smiths,
Visage,
Tom Boy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young,
Nation of Ulysses,
Morten Harket,
The Doors,
Peter & Gordon,
In Retrospect,
Dark Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
Underground Resistance,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deadbeat,
Patti Smith,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang of Four,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harmonia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Todd Terry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Franke,
The Fire Engines,
Joey Negro,
Boz Scaggs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Howard Jones,
Kaleidoscope,
Unwound,
Rekid,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.