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 St Lucia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 Infiniti to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
June Days,
Main Source,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Qualms,
Tears for Fears,
a-ha,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
U.S. Maple,
Fluxion,
Camberwell Now,
Deepchord,
Mars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Animal Collective,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dual Sessions,
Zero Boys,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed,
The Grass Roots,
Albert Ayler,
Bad Manners,
Nico,
The Standells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rekid,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Intrusion,
Bluetip,
Kevin Saunderson,
FM Einheit,
the Soft Cell,
Icehouse,
Man Parrish,
The Wake,
James White and The Blacks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Flag,
F. McDonald,
In Retrospect,
Das Ding,
Oneida,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Quadrant,
Television Personalities,
Marshall Jefferson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fat Boys,
The Fortunes,
the Bar-Kays,
The Offenders,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Theoretical Girls,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.