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 Estonia and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the grime 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Nico,
The Cure,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magazine,
Nirvana,
Derrick Morgan,
Letta Mbulu,
John Lydon,
Ice-T,
Yaz,
Eli Mardock,
Japan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arab on Radar,
Circle Jerks,
Moss Icon,
Anthony Braxton,
Brothers Johnson,
Scientists,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Erykah Badu,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Liliput,
Supertramp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Trumans Water,
Negative Approach,
Ossler,
a-ha,
Lyres,
Black Flag,
Fad Gadget,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kas Product,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chris Corsano,
Drexciya,
Cheater Slicks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cameo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Franke,
Joe Finger,
Black Pus,
Kurtis Blow,
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sparks,
B.T. Express,
The Grass Roots,
Donald Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
Byron Stingily,
Gang of Four,
Metal Thangz,
Peter and Kerry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.