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 Kiribati and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 CMW to the electroclash 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brass Construction,
Lakeside,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Green,
The Trojans,
The Red Krayola,
Roxy Music,
Banda Bassotti,
Brand Nubian,
Ronnie Foster,
Saccharine Trust,
Robert Wyatt,
The Selecter,
The Neon Judgement,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scan 7,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Knickerbockers,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
MC5,
Tubeway Army,
Ken Boothe,
Anakelly,
Joy Division,
The Cramps,
Wolf Eyes,
The Grass Roots,
Easy Going,
James White and The Blacks,
Fad Gadget,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cecil Taylor,
Amon Düül II,
Spandau Ballet,
Skaos,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Lydon,
David Bowie,
the Association,
Ultimate Spinach,
Make Up,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Boredoms,
Buzzcocks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-Ray Spex,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
UT,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick May,
Underground Resistance,
Babytalk,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.