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 Kenya and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wasted Youth to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Erasure,
Faust,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sällskapet,
Youth Brigade,
Graham Central Station,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
Hoover,
Mission of Burma,
The Kinks,
Index,
The Raincoats,
Quantec,
Bootsy Collins,
Godley & Creme,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
LL Cool J,
Harpers Bizarre,
Siglo XX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Thompson Twins,
Yellowson,
Judy Mowatt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Basic Channel,
Sound Behaviour,
Dual Sessions,
Lower 48,
D'Angelo,
Oneida,
Harmonia,
Jawbox,
The Remains,
Joe Smooth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott Heron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Depeche Mode,
Tommy Roe,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Misunderstood,
Brand Nubian,
Rakim,
Ponytail,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Moody Blues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Suicide,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.