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 South Africa 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Doobie Brothers to the jazz 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Ken Boothe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mad Mike,
Buzzcocks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dead Boys,
Lou Reed,
Organ,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang Starr,
Tim Buckley,
Zapp,
Iggy Pop,
The Mummies,
Index,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funky Four + One,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Freddie Wadling,
Sound Behaviour,
Monks,
Flipper,
Kayak,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Morten Harket,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
The Martian,
Bad Manners,
Barrington Levy,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Roxette,
Robert Hood,
Maleditus Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Basic Channel,
The Invisible,
Blossom Toes,
The Five Americans,
Sight & Sound,
John Coltrane,
The Leaves,
Severed Heads,
Brick,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Young Marble Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dark Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fugazi,
Marvin Gaye,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Lydon,
Mission of Burma,
Suburban Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
Peter and Kerry,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.