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 Paraguay and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Von Mondo to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Whodini,
Lightning Bolt,
The Walker Brothers,
Altered Images,
Swans,
Interpol,
Chris Corsano,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Five Americans,
Juan Atkins,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pere Ubu,
Arab on Radar,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ludus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
La Düsseldorf,
The Gap Band,
Moss Icon,
Brick,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Delta 5,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Rundgren,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fugs,
Sixth Finger,
Scratch Acid,
Funkadelic,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Monks,
Oblivians,
Faraquet,
The Human League,
K-Klass,
Slave,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
New York Dolls,
Quadrant,
Procol Harum,
Moebius,
48th St. Collective,
Deakin,
Lower 48,
Goldenarms,
Tommy Roe,
F. McDonald,
James Chance & The Contortions,
U.S. Maple,
Brothers Johnson,
Monks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Pus,
The Buckinghams,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
New Order,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.