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 Canada and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
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 Echospace to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
B.T. Express,
June of 44,
Mad Mike,
Mantronix,
Chris Corsano,
Mars,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Rundgren,
Slave,
Johnny Clarke,
Mo-Dettes,
Make Up,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
A Certain Ratio,
Tommy Roe,
Index,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barbara Tucker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Piero Umiliani,
Letta Mbulu,
Crash Course in Science,
Delon & Dalcan,
Prince Buster,
The Searchers,
Scion,
Khruangbin,
Scratch Acid,
Scott Walker,
Patti Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sound,
EPMD,
Ultravox,
Lindisfarne,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Angry Samoans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pussy Galore,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fortunes,
Oneida,
Oblivians,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rapeman,
Bad Manners,
kango's stein massive,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacques Brel,
Bush Tetras,
Laurel Aitken,
The Modern Lovers,
Guru Guru,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Young Marble Giants,
Mandrill,
Bill Near,
Dawn Penn,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.