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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Joey Negro to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Scion,
Cecil Taylor,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
The Evens,
Gabor Szabo,
The Vogues,
Bob Dylan,
Ronnie Foster,
New York Dolls,
Gang Green,
The Smiths,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
June of 44,
ABBA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pulsallama,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wolf Eyes,
EPMD,
The Count Five,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scan 7,
Talk Talk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
The Black Dice,
Reagan Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
The Barracudas,
Thee Headcoats,
Jerry's Kids,
D'Angelo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aural Exciters,
Man Eating Sloth,
PIL,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed,
Kerri Chandler,
K-Klass,
Reuben Wilson,
This Heat,
Half Japanese,
Andrew Hill,
Bobby Sherman,
Al Stewart,
Ossler,
Soft Cell,
Crime,
Circle Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonic Youth,
Hoover,
The United States of America,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Archie Shepp,
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.