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 Iceland and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Robert Palmer 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 Leonard Cohen to the rock 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hasil Adkins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joe Smooth,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
Groovy Waters,
AZ,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Can,
Excepter,
Blake Baxter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Hashim,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dirtbombs,
Slick Rick,
LL Cool J,
The Litter,
The Slackers,
Saccharine Trust,
Blossom Toes,
The Martian,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Mummies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pylon,
Tears for Fears,
Deadbeat,
Pere Ubu,
David McCallum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pantaleimon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Drexciya,
Donald Byrd,
The Index,
Alice Coltrane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minor Threat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ludus,
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
The Searchers,
Junior Murvin,
Pussy Galore,
Harmonia,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed,
Letta Mbulu,
Lakeside,
Cluster,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.