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 Croatia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum 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 The Victims to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Blake Baxter,
Boredoms,
World's Most,
Stetsasonic,
Al Stewart,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Derrick Morgan,
Stiv Bators,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Audionom,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Magma,
T. Rex,
Carl Craig,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Doors,
Yaz,
Leonard Cohen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cluster,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aaron Thompson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Coltrane,
Eddi Front,
the Swans,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bauhaus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
R.M.O.,
The Gories,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Funkadelic,
Scott Walker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Max Romeo,
Fat Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Organ,
Thompson Twins,
Reagan Youth,
Surgeon,
Chrome,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lyres,
Circle Jerks,
The Mummies,
The Sonics,
the Germs,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
The Vogues,
Suburban Knight,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.