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 Cameroon and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Modern Lovers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Prince Buster,
Sarah Menescal,
The Grass Roots,
Sam Rivers,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rod Modell,
Los Fastidios,
Crime,
Marc Almond,
Slave,
Cluster,
Roxette,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barry Ungar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Görl,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rakim,
The Modern Lovers,
the Human League,
Boredoms,
X-Ray Spex,
Barrington Levy,
New York Dolls,
DJ Sneak,
Pussy Galore,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Loose Ends,
Dawn Penn,
John Coltrane,
Nick Fraelich,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Wells,
The Slackers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Remains,
The Count Five,
The Dead C,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter and Kerry,
the Normal,
Gastr Del Sol,
Motorama,
Alton Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
Ice-T,
Man Parrish,
The Standells,
Index,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scrapy,
Tim Buckley,
Scientists,
The Gap Band,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.