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 Portugal and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the techno 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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Can,
Lungfish,
Bobby Womack,
Saccharine Trust,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
Inner City,
Skriet,
ABC,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moleskins,
Sarah Menescal,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Standells,
Todd Rundgren,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Evens,
Model 500,
The Slits,
Junior Murvin,
Slave,
The Beau Brummels,
Pantytec,
Moss Icon,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Starr,
Eric Copeland,
Godley & Creme,
Camouflage,
Eddi Front,
Tres Demented,
The Gun Club,
Carl Craig,
Tom Boy,
The Dirtbombs,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Wells,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacques Brel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Parry Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
F. McDonald,
The Searchers,
Smog,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
Buzzcocks,
Roxette,
Popol Vuh,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Flash Fearless,
Josef K,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.