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 San Marino and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Pole to the crunk 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ken Boothe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Metal Thangz,
The Trojans,
Ludus,
The Move,
Can,
Royal Trux,
Eric Dolphy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Porter Ricks,
MDC,
World's Most,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rod Modell,
Eli Mardock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Real Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Michelle Simonal,
Tom Boy,
Barry Ungar,
Public Enemy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young,
48th St. Collective,
Grandmaster Flash,
Khruangbin,
Television,
Liliput,
The Offenders,
Panda Bear,
Echospace,
David McCallum,
Don Cherry,
Unrelated Segments,
a-ha,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Hill,
Patti Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Surgeon,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blackbyrds,
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
Slick Rick,
Erykah Badu,
Roxette,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sight & Sound,
The Young Rascals,
David Axelrod,
The Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
Wire,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
Suburban Knight,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.