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 Kyrgyzstan and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mad Mike to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sixth Finger,
June of 44,
The Searchers,
Rod Modell,
Pagans,
Cluster,
Malaria!,
Make Up,
Rotary Connection,
Eric Copeland,
Kerrie Biddell,
Model 500,
the Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
The Count Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cameo,
Ice-T,
The Slits,
Wire,
Lou Christie,
Sex Pistols,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mark Hollis,
The Fuzztones,
Nik Kershaw,
Panda Bear,
Sam Rivers,
Magma,
Basic Channel,
Wasted Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sun City Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tears for Fears,
Little Man,
Wolf Eyes,
FM Einheit,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Gap Band,
Franke,
Prince Buster,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slackers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Axelrod,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Neon Judgement,
Barbara Tucker,
Simply Red,
Patti Smith,
John Foxx,
Quando Quango,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.