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 Albania and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Misunderstood to the funk 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Joy Division,
Stereo Dub,
the Sonics,
Skaos,
Spandau Ballet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott,
Janne Schatter,
Siglo XX,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
The Dead C,
Faust,
The Fall,
Rotary Connection,
La Düsseldorf,
Interpol,
T. Rex,
Arthur Verocai,
Panda Bear,
Average White Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sound,
Nas,
Rufus Thomas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nico,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
E-Dancer,
Hasil Adkins,
John Cale,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
James White and The Blacks,
Cymande,
Minnie Riperton,
Cheater Slicks,
Byron Stingily,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Standells,
Yusef Lateef,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Audionom,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Harry Pussy,
Absolute Body Control,
Ice-T,
ABC,
The Trojans,
Eurythmics,
Black Moon,
Moss Icon,
Prince Buster,
The J.B.'s,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Mummies,
Joe Finger,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.