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 Andorra and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-Ray Spex to the disco 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Echospace,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Youth Brigade,
Stetsasonic,
Groovy Waters,
Severed Heads,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Modern Lovers,
Simply Red,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Electric Prunes,
Cybotron,
DJ Sneak,
The Buckinghams,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ohio Players,
Lower 48,
Blancmange,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
The J.B.'s,
the Swans,
Tears for Fears,
Faraquet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arthur Verocai,
Morten Harket,
8 Eyed Spy,
Letta Mbulu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cheater Slicks,
Easy Going,
Absolute Body Control,
Soul Sonic Force,
Y Pants,
Monolake,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lightning Bolt,
Derrick Morgan,
LL Cool J,
Funkadelic,
The Index,
ABBA,
Young Marble Giants,
Grey Daturas,
Zapp,
The Five Americans,
The Dead C,
Faust,
Marshall Jefferson,
Essential Logic,
Ultravox,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Smiths,
Skarface,
The Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Finger,
Monks,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.