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 Cuba and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 June Days to the crunk 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Derrick Morgan,
David Bowie,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Don Cherry,
48th St. Collective,
Harry Pussy,
The Moody Blues,
X-102,
Parry Music,
Peter and Kerry,
Ohio Players,
The Names,
Flash Fearless,
Buzzcocks,
Eric Copeland,
In Retrospect,
Junior Murvin,
The Star Department,
Brick,
the Germs,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalann,
Nick Fraelich,
Oneida,
Cluster,
UT,
Second Layer,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kenny Larkin,
The Human League,
Deakin,
Ronan,
The Doors,
The Music Machine,
Slick Rick,
June Days,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Remains,
Motorama,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suicide,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry's Kids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Girls At Our Best!,
Saccharine Trust,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dorothy Ashby,
Guru Guru,
Robert Görl,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smiths,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.