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 Bolivia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The J.B.'s 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Womack,
The Seeds,
Toni Rubio,
D'Angelo,
Ten City,
Harmonia,
Beasts of Bourbon,
UT,
Terry Callier,
Godley & Creme,
Aloha Tigers,
Model 500,
Howard Jones,
The Stooges,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wings,
Talk Talk,
Rakim,
MDC,
the Swans,
Boredoms,
Tropical Tobacco,
June of 44,
Peter & Gordon,
The Buckinghams,
Ultravox,
Derrick May,
Pylon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantytec,
Black Sheep,
Sonic Youth,
The Techniques,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Half Japanese,
The Move,
The Blues Magoos,
Lebanon Hanover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
New York Dolls,
Royal Trux,
Rosa Yemen,
Fad Gadget,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Technova,
Monks,
R.M.O.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Offenders,
Rites of Spring,
Faust,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marvin Gaye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Television,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
LL Cool J,
JFA,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.