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 Ivory Coast and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 guitar 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 Ponytail to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
John Holt,
Eddi Front,
Rosa Yemen,
Mandrill,
Symarip,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Associates,
EPMD,
The Monks,
Q and Not U,
The Dirtbombs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brothers Johnson,
Panda Bear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
Bronski Beat,
Todd Terry,
kango's stein massive,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Young Marble Giants,
T. Rex,
The Stooges,
Bob Dylan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
Fugazi,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Searchers,
Sound Behaviour,
Accadde A,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
David Bowie,
E-Dancer,
Derrick May,
The Moleskins,
The Young Rascals,
Ken Boothe,
The Human League,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Green,
Scratch Acid,
Underground Resistance,
Von Mondo,
Eric Dolphy,
Lightning Bolt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Massinfluence,
Kenny Larkin,
The Techniques,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The J.B.'s,
Thee Headcoats,
Michelle Simonal,
Anthony Braxton,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.