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 Indonesia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 organ 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Leonard Cohen,
The Human League,
The Gories,
Flipper,
Section 25,
Jimmy McGriff,
Massinfluence,
David McCallum,
Das Ding,
Harry Pussy,
A Certain Ratio,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Man Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Freddie Wadling,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scan 7,
Surgeon,
The Black Dice,
Ten City,
Pussy Galore,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mad Mike,
Laurel Aitken,
Make Up,
The Count Five,
Minutemen,
Bauhaus,
Funkadelic,
Patti Smith,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gladiators,
Jandek,
the Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terry Callier,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Starr,
Fad Gadget,
Bob Dylan,
Intrusion,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anakelly,
EPMD,
The Barracudas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arthur Verocai,
the Soft Cell,
Interpol,
F. McDonald,
The Smoke,
Marmalade,
Susan Cadogan,
LL Cool J,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Bowie,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Underground Resistance,
Ossler,
D'Angelo,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.