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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Bobby Sherman to the techno 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Idris Muhammad,
Dark Day,
LL Cool J,
Q and Not U,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nils Olav,
The Last Poets,
Junior Murvin,
Alice Coltrane,
Magazine,
Index,
The Offenders,
Vladislav Delay,
The Evens,
Dead Boys,
The Fortunes,
The Wake,
Jacques Brel,
Godley & Creme,
The Gories,
The Pop Group,
David Axelrod,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Masters at Work,
Kurtis Blow,
the Bar-Kays,
Wings,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Certain Ratio,
Monks,
Brass Construction,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Television,
cv313,
Robert Wyatt,
Schoolly D,
The Velvet Underground,
Nick Fraelich,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scan 7,
UT,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deepchord,
Fatback Band,
The Dead C,
Bob Dylan,
Laurel Aitken,
Moby Grape,
Pagans,
The Cowsills,
Wolf Eyes,
Chrome,
Los Fastidios,
Main Source,
Lee Hazlewood,
Panda Bear,
Monolake,
The Smiths,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.