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 Papua New Guinea and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Al Stewart to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
David Axelrod,
Alice Coltrane,
Blake Baxter,
Radio Birdman,
Reagan Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Swans,
The Sonics,
The Invisible,
Dead Boys,
Bill Wells,
Second Layer,
Roxette,
Lungfish,
The Human League,
Dennis Brown,
Crime,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Popol Vuh,
Bauhaus,
The Grass Roots,
Wally Richardson,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fuzztones,
Sun Ra,
The Black Dice,
Tomorrow,
Boz Scaggs,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New York Dolls,
Crooked Eye,
Tim Buckley,
Q65,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ituana,
Bronski Beat,
The Shadows of Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Althea and Donna,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cameo,
DJ Style,
The Pop Group,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
PIL,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Erasure,
Country Teasers,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Audionom,
DNA,
Camouflage,
Boredoms,
Cecil Taylor,
Al Stewart,
Hot Snakes,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.