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 Cape Verde and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 John Holt to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Pagans,
The Slackers,
Harry Pussy,
John Lydon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yellowson,
DNA,
The Music Machine,
DJ Style,
Gang Gang Dance,
Minnie Riperton,
Skriet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
Clear Light,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Motions,
Prince Buster,
Black Pus,
The Searchers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacques Brel,
Niagra,
Can,
Shuggie Otis,
Archie Shepp,
Gang of Four,
Swans,
Nirvana,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Youth Brigade,
The Monochrome Set,
Radio Birdman,
Symarip,
The Angels of Light,
Outsiders,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Kerrie Biddell,
Charles Mingus,
June of 44,
The American Breed,
The Gladiators,
Faust,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Kinks,
UT,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alphaville,
Anakelly,
The Barracudas,
Reagan Youth,
The Five Americans,
Ludus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalann,
Darondo,
Joey Negro,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.