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 Marshall Islands and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 The Mummies to the crunk 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Music Machine,
The Standells,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Leaves,
Skaos,
MDC,
The Cure,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Raincoats,
Black Bananas,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Slits,
Groovy Waters,
Isaac Hayes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young,
Niagra,
Scrapy,
New Age Steppers,
Buzzcocks,
Sandy B,
Tim Buckley,
Supertramp,
Spandau Ballet,
Roxette,
The Beau Brummels,
the Swans,
Gang of Four,
Sällskapet,
Brothers Johnson,
Porter Ricks,
U.S. Maple,
The Birthday Party,
The Electric Prunes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sparks,
K-Klass,
The Golliwogs,
Skarface,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Wake,
Moebius,
Robert Hood,
Nik Kershaw,
Lucky Dragons,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suicide,
Bobby Byrd,
Organ,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flash Fearless,
The Gories,
The Toasters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Nico,
Connie Case,
Ten City,
Rhythm & Sound,
Curtis Mayfield,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.