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 Equatorial Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
The Human League,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scientists,
Tres Demented,
The Neon Judgement,
Soul II Soul,
The Saints,
Qualms,
The Fall,
The Slackers,
Joey Negro,
Boredoms,
The Searchers,
Brand Nubian,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Colin Newman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Michelle Simonal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Idris Muhammad,
The Sonics,
Cal Tjader,
The Stooges,
Danielle Patucci,
Fatback Band,
Ohio Players,
The Golliwogs,
The Mojo Men,
the Germs,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yaz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Brass Construction,
Arab on Radar,
Tom Boy,
Aloha Tigers,
Ornette Coleman,
Brothers Johnson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
F. McDonald,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun Ra,
Funkadelic,
Carl Craig,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rhythm & Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Letta Mbulu,
John Foxx,
The Buckinghams,
Lungfish,
Depeche Mode,
Minny Pops,
Whodini,
the Normal,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.