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 India and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare 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 Max Romeo to the electroclash 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 Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Barbara Tucker,
Qualms,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Raincoats,
Jeru the Damaja,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mantronix,
Rod Modell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bob Dylan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Trumans Water,
Wasted Youth,
Lungfish,
The Names,
Albert Ayler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Boredoms,
Ossler,
The Busters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cybotron,
Subhumans,
Animal Collective,
KRS-One,
Lower 48,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scott Walker,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suburban Knight,
Severed Heads,
JFA,
Cameo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Outsiders,
Skaos,
The Slackers,
The Stooges,
Monks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Erykah Badu,
John Cale,
Japan,
Royal Trux,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Index,
Nirvana,
New Order,
The Cowsills,
Rosa Yemen,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dead C,
UT,
The Gun Club,
Morten Harket,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.