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 Denmark and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Joy Division to the rap 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wasted Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Move,
Scientists,
Scratch Acid,
Lindisfarne,
New Order,
R.M.O.,
Tomorrow,
The Monochrome Set,
Scan 7,
X-Ray Spex,
UT,
Inner City,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cybotron,
Don Cherry,
Sandy B,
Soft Cell,
David McCallum,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fall,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth,
A Certain Ratio,
Lungfish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Intrusion,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fire Engines,
Khruangbin,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
LL Cool J,
Lebanon Hanover,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fuzztones,
Severed Heads,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yusef Lateef,
Subhumans,
Susan Cadogan,
Albert Ayler,
Jawbox,
Ken Boothe,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gerry Rafferty,
Excepter,
Rod Modell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Quadrant,
Franke,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gong,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moebius,
Scion,
Roxette,
Interpol,
Blancmange,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.