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 Malawi and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 The Real Kids to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Underground Resistance,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
Q and Not U,
D'Angelo,
Angry Samoans,
Mars,
Q65,
Soft Cell,
Von Mondo,
Second Layer,
Grey Daturas,
The Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Minutemen,
Livin' Joy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
The Moleskins,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Quando Quango,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
Los Fastidios,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
The Techniques,
Skaos,
Max Romeo,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultra Naté,
a-ha,
Dennis Brown,
Tomorrow,
Nas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kayak,
the Soft Cell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Remains,
Skriet,
Yusef Lateef,
Erykah Badu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Faust,
The Index,
Harmonia,
Sarah Menescal,
David Axelrod,
Depeche Mode,
Ossler,
Bill Near,
Roxette,
The Busters,
Interpol,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.