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 Liechtenstein and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Kas Product to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Brick,
The Saints,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bill Wells,
Malaria!,
Popol Vuh,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Organ,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Whodini,
Lungfish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roger Hodgson,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
Minny Pops,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Rundgren,
Soft Cell,
Chris Corsano,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Leaves,
Letta Mbulu,
The Modern Lovers,
Vainqueur,
X-102,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
Crime,
The Durutti Column,
Aaron Thompson,
E-Dancer,
Pylon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q65,
Sixth Finger,
Yazoo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Coltrane,
Patti Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
The Motions,
The Red Krayola,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dead Boys,
cv313,
Urselle,
MDC,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Laurel Aitken,
John Cale,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.