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 United States and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ 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 Spoonie Gee to the grunge 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Man Parrish,
John Coltrane,
The Move,
the Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
The Happenings,
Khruangbin,
Susan Cadogan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
LL Cool J,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
B.T. Express,
Main Source,
Goldenarms,
Kayak,
Scion,
Ken Boothe,
The Remains,
The Trojans,
FM Einheit,
Absolute Body Control,
The Blackbyrds,
Joensuu 1685,
Harmonia,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Derrick May,
Nas,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Mark Hollis,
The Fire Engines,
Section 25,
Los Fastidios,
Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Television,
Iggy Pop,
The Black Dice,
Skriet,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Nico,
Lou Reed,
Surgeon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Prince Buster,
Public Enemy,
The Fortunes,
Sun City Girls,
Inner City,
Juan Atkins,
Adolescents,
Jacob Miller,
Jawbox,
The Detroit Cobras,
Qualms,
Mary Jane Girls,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.