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 India and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 mellotron 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 Black Dice to the punk 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Pulsallama,
Rekid,
Sugar Minott,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dave Gahan,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gories,
Rod Modell,
Michelle Simonal,
The Remains,
Niagra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Matthew Bourne,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantytec,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ken Boothe,
Josef K,
Gang Green,
Underground Resistance,
Liliput,
Man Eating Sloth,
Intrusion,
X-102,
Shuggie Otis,
Thompson Twins,
Pere Ubu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deepchord,
Nick Fraelich,
The Golliwogs,
Roxette,
Carl Craig,
Roger Hodgson,
Scion,
Porter Ricks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Joy Division,
Au Pairs,
Unwound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Clarke,
Animal Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tommy Roe,
Boogie Down Productions,
CMW,
Dead Boys,
Zapp,
Yaz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Chrome,
The Monks,
Sister Nancy,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Selecter,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.