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 Iraq and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the crunk 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Juan Atkins,
Loose Ends,
FM Einheit,
Godley & Creme,
Outsiders,
The Gun Club,
the Germs,
Porter Ricks,
The Move,
Barbara Tucker,
T. Rex,
Dead Boys,
Slick Rick,
Negative Approach,
Ronnie Foster,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fall,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Circle Jerks,
The Golliwogs,
Radiohead,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moebius,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aloha Tigers,
Ten City,
Eddi Front,
The Dave Clark Five,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans,
Marvin Gaye,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Roxette,
The Techniques,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
The Leaves,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crime,
Magma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric Dolphy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chrome,
The Cowsills,
Robert Görl,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nirvana,
Unrelated Segments,
Arthur Verocai,
The Residents,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Raincoats,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tommy Roe,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.