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 New Zealand and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marmalade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
JFA,
Oneida,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Dead C,
Albert Ayler,
The Seeds,
The Angels of Light,
The Happenings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Scion,
Wasted Youth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hashim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Blancmange,
Royal Trux,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gories,
Subhumans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Womack,
Reuben Wilson,
June Days,
Livin' Joy,
Wally Richardson,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yellowson,
The Count Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Blues Magoos,
Soulsonic Force,
X-102,
Ultravox,
Curtis Mayfield,
Malaria!,
Bauhaus,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lower 48,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Fugs,
The Martian,
Ken Boothe,
Derrick May,
Steve Hackett,
A Certain Ratio,
Q and Not U,
the Soft Cell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Michelle Simonal,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.