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 Mongolia and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 8 Eyed Spy to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Ice-T,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slits,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Susan Cadogan,
Liliput,
The Kinks,
Ohio Players,
The Fall,
Isaac Hayes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mandrill,
Ken Boothe,
Joyce Sims,
Nas,
Warsaw,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wire,
Erasure,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tears for Fears,
Scratch Acid,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fat Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crime,
The Names,
cv313,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four,
The Cramps,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Cale,
Infiniti,
Nick Fraelich,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sam Rivers,
FM Einheit,
Rapeman,
Todd Rundgren,
Flipper,
Scientists,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
Howard Jones,
Wolf Eyes,
Dave Gahan,
Mark Hollis,
The Red Krayola,
OOIOO,
Motorama,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Grey Daturas,
Dawn Penn,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.