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 Monaco and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the funk 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Tres Demented,
Metal Thangz,
Guru Guru,
Minor Threat,
Unrelated Segments,
Moss Icon,
The Neon Judgement,
Dead Boys,
The Black Dice,
Banda Bassotti,
T. Rex,
Lyres,
The Young Rascals,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultravox,
Can,
the Human League,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Residents,
Angry Samoans,
The Happenings,
Excepter,
the Sonics,
Charles Mingus,
Crime,
Arcadia,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Lynne,
Ossler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Duran Duran,
Urselle,
Crash Course in Science,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Saints,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jawbox,
The Monochrome Set,
Aural Exciters,
The Martian,
Magazine,
Scan 7,
The Gories,
Infiniti,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers,
Delta 5,
The Searchers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brick,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nas,
B.T. Express,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
In Retrospect,
Circle Jerks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.