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 Chile and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radiohead,
Ten City,
Unrelated Segments,
Make Up,
Lightning Bolt,
Connie Case,
Pet Shop Boys,
Television Personalities,
Rosa Yemen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
David Bowie,
Suburban Knight,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pussy Galore,
The Divine Comedy,
Cheater Slicks,
ABBA,
Mandrill,
Flash Fearless,
Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Half Japanese,
Livin' Joy,
T. Rex,
Main Source,
The Saints,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ronnie Foster,
Negative Approach,
Desert Stars,
R.M.O.,
Wings,
Amon Düül,
Porter Ricks,
The Neon Judgement,
Joyce Sims,
Gichy Dan,
Junior Murvin,
Mars,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Sherman,
The Residents,
Johnny Clarke,
Jesper Dahlback,
Graham Central Station,
Girls At Our Best!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Schoolly D,
Accadde A,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.