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 Angola and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Magma,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eli Mardock,
These Immortal Souls,
Infiniti,
The Raincoats,
Japan,
Fluxion,
Scion,
The Searchers,
Second Layer,
Maleditus Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fire Engines,
Scratch Acid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
The Music Machine,
K-Klass,
Scott Walker,
Pierre Henry,
Alison Limerick,
Bill Wells,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare,
Sonic Youth,
Supertramp,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sonics,
the Bar-Kays,
Joey Negro,
James White and The Blacks,
Y Pants,
Joe Smooth,
Guru Guru,
Subhumans,
kango's stein massive,
June Days,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Angels of Light,
The Stooges,
Fat Boys,
Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
The Toasters,
Theoretical Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
Nation of Ulysses,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aural Exciters,
The Fuzztones,
Visage,
Wolf Eyes,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.