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 Algeria and from Delhi.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Outsiders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
MC5,
Simply Red,
The Stooges,
Skriet,
Minnie Riperton,
Wolf Eyes,
Donald Byrd,
Kenny Larkin,
10cc,
Swell Maps,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joy Division,
Bootsy Collins,
Davy DMX,
The Black Dice,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
Aaron Thompson,
kango's stein massive,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed,
Con Funk Shun,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gories,
Gang Starr,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Moss Icon,
Letta Mbulu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arthur Verocai,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boredoms,
Scientists,
Chrome,
The Sisters of Mercy,
David Bowie,
Joe Smooth,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tim Buckley,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
The Grass Roots,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marmalade,
Animal Collective,
Scan 7,
Roxy Music,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.