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 Guinea-Bissau and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gang Gang Dance to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Bronski Beat,
Nirvana,
Surgeon,
Arcadia,
Chrome,
Pole,
Niagra,
Excepter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crooked Eye,
The Buckinghams,
June Days,
Heaven 17,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
The Busters,
Talk Talk,
New York Dolls,
This Heat,
Robert Wyatt,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
The Cure,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terry Callier,
Cheater Slicks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The American Breed,
Inner City,
Joe Finger,
Bad Manners,
Barclay James Harvest,
Index,
Boredoms,
Morten Harket,
Lower 48,
Funky Four + One,
Marvin Gaye,
Joy Division,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Minnie Riperton,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fad Gadget,
The Tremeloes,
Faust,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Evens,
Audionom,
Porter Ricks,
The Divine Comedy,
Section 25,
Mo-Dettes,
Andrew Hill,
David Bowie,
Circle Jerks,
Ludus,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.