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 China and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Pagans to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Supertramp,
Gang Green,
Pantaleimon,
the Swans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eurythmics,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Rundgren,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Interpol,
Boz Scaggs,
The Angels of Light,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Red Krayola,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sam Rivers,
the Sonics,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Lynne,
Jacques Brel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Smog,
Motorama,
F. McDonald,
Rod Modell,
The Slackers,
The Human League,
The Seeds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
AZ,
The Buckinghams,
Soulsonic Force,
H. Thieme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Average White Band,
The J.B.'s,
Index,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
Boredoms,
B.T. Express,
Ossler,
Simply Red,
Fat Boys,
June Days,
Kaleidoscope,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cowsills,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arcadia,
The Searchers,
John Holt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Silicon Teens,
Warsaw,
Gichy Dan,
The Gories,
Oneida,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.