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 Micronesia and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
PIL,
Donald Byrd,
Magazine,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Wake,
Gang Green,
The Smiths,
One Last Wish,
Kenny Larkin,
Rapeman,
Crash Course in Science,
Thee Headcoats,
Terry Callier,
Wings,
June of 44,
David Axelrod,
U.S. Maple,
Sight & Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Jacob Miller,
Blancmange,
Monolake,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Radio Birdman,
Jacques Brel,
Funkadelic,
The Human League,
The Litter,
D'Angelo,
The Monochrome Set,
Tomorrow,
X-102,
DJ Sneak,
The United States of America,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deadbeat,
Aaron Thompson,
Eden Ahbez,
The Star Department,
Nik Kershaw,
Massinfluence,
The Knickerbockers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Move,
The Red Krayola,
Livin' Joy,
Duran Duran,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
Kaleidoscope,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Angels of Light,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.