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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin 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 Girls At Our Best! to the rock 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stiv Bators,
EPMD,
Gabor Szabo,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Moody Blues,
Blake Baxter,
Josef K,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Happenings,
Radio Birdman,
UT,
Skriet,
Minutemen,
Tommy Roe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Half Japanese,
Crooked Eye,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faust,
Lucky Dragons,
Marmalade,
Pylon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Animal Collective,
Godley & Creme,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Bananas,
Connie Case,
Eurythmics,
Porter Ricks,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
John Holt,
Derrick Morgan,
Cluster,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Public Enemy,
Adolescents,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Womack,
The Blackbyrds,
The Barracudas,
Faraquet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Last Poets,
Deakin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pole,
Joe Smooth,
The Pop Group,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry's Kids,
Todd Rundgren,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
D'Angelo,
The Searchers,
Goldenarms,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.