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 Kyrgyzstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the electroclash 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 Jimmy McGriff. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Thee Headcoats,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
Guru Guru,
Faust,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Moleskins,
Excepter,
R.M.O.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Image Ltd.,
Reagan Youth,
Bill Near,
This Heat,
Pulsallama,
Wings,
Stiv Bators,
One Last Wish,
Rites of Spring,
Boz Scaggs,
Rotary Connection,
Adolescents,
The Birthday Party,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tim Buckley,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gun Club,
The Gladiators,
The Fire Engines,
Neil Young,
Chrome,
Agent Orange,
Barbara Tucker,
The Saints,
Glenn Branca,
Aural Exciters,
Mark Hollis,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sex Pistols,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pere Ubu,
Kaleidoscope,
Maleditus Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ponytail,
Black Pus,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Real Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nas,
Cybotron,
B.T. Express,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.