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 Angola and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 This Heat to the jazz 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Leaves,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Shoche,
Fugazi,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Pus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hot Snakes,
The Monochrome Set,
Amon Düül II,
Pere Ubu,
Maleditus Sound,
Rekid,
Procol Harum,
Eddi Front,
Trumans Water,
Scion,
Erasure,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Junior Murvin,
Das Ding,
Radio Birdman,
Isaac Hayes,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Byrd,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Victims,
The Real Kids,
PIL,
The Remains,
The Mummies,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jawbox,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ohio Players,
Icehouse,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Holt,
Faust,
Minutemen,
Nirvana,
Sandy B,
Bang On A Can,
Hashim,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dead C,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Interpol,
Hoover,
Gichy Dan,
Funky Four + One,
Make Up,
China Crisis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soft Cell,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.