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 Mali and from Salvador.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Echospace to the funk 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Brick,
10cc,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skaos,
The Saints,
Rites of Spring,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grauzone,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Black Dice,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
This Heat,
Lightning Bolt,
T.S.O.L.,
Infiniti,
Byron Stingily,
The Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
The Busters,
Eric Copeland,
Joyce Sims,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Durutti Column,
Rufus Thomas,
Aloha Tigers,
Lalann,
Marmalade,
Motorama,
Television,
Nils Olav,
Kaleidoscope,
Accadde A,
Schoolly D,
Jeru the Damaja,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rosa Yemen,
Quantec,
David Axelrod,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Evens,
LL Cool J,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
Ice-T,
Albert Ayler,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Interpol,
Hardrive,
Parry Music,
Severed Heads,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Darondo,
The Toasters,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.