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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 The Last Poets to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
The Dead C,
the Fania All-Stars,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
the Sonics,
Bobby Byrd,
DJ Sneak,
Pole,
Deepchord,
Kayak,
Panda Bear,
Scratch Acid,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
Aswad,
Ultimate Spinach,
Circle Jerks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oblivians,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moby Grape,
Pussy Galore,
Shuggie Otis,
the Swans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Hashim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Connie Case,
China Crisis,
One Last Wish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tropical Tobacco,
Newcleus,
Bootsy Collins,
The Kinks,
MDC,
Eric Copeland,
Moebius,
John Lydon,
The Techniques,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Stooges,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kaleidoscope,
Neu!,
Erykah Badu,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective,
Metal Thangz,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.