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 Mexico and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stetsasonic to the grunge 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Tommy Roe,
Iggy Pop,
Fear,
Prince Buster,
Shuggie Otis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Audionom,
E-Dancer,
Organ,
Country Teasers,
Camouflage,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Bananas,
Ituana,
Franke,
Blancmange,
Model 500,
Matthew Halsall,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Kayak,
Procol Harum,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
CMW,
Yazoo,
Soft Machine,
The Invisible,
The Residents,
The Dave Clark Five,
Radio Birdman,
Rites of Spring,
David Axelrod,
Piero Umiliani,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Babytalk,
Lightning Bolt,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gories,
Monks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
One Last Wish,
Sixth Finger,
Bronski Beat,
Pussy Galore,
The Names,
New York Dolls,
Sonic Youth,
Sam Rivers,
The Leaves,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fall,
Robert Wyatt,
Eddi Front,
Robert Hood,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.