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 Panama and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare 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 Alarm Clocks to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys 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?
Ornette Coleman,
Don Cherry,
Moebius,
Infiniti,
Fad Gadget,
Ralphi Rosario,
Au Pairs,
The Moleskins,
Smog,
Bluetip,
Cecil Taylor,
David McCallum,
Oneida,
Metal Thangz,
Absolute Body Control,
Mandrill,
Iggy Pop,
Derrick May,
Steve Hackett,
Deepchord,
Gang of Four,
Lyres,
The New Christs,
Hasil Adkins,
Brothers Johnson,
Jerry's Kids,
Rapeman,
David Axelrod,
The Fuzztones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Andrew Hill,
Donald Byrd,
June Days,
Roy Ayers,
Max Romeo,
Silicon Teens,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mantronix,
Flamin' Groovies,
Half Japanese,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Loose Ends,
Trumans Water,
The Birthday Party,
Quando Quango,
Joyce Sims,
Gang Starr,
Sällskapet,
The Happenings,
Adolescents,
The Divine Comedy,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
The Seeds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lindisfarne,
Terry Callier,
DNA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Khruangbin,
Marine Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.