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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mark Hollis,
Ludus,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terry Callier,
The Zeros,
Faraquet,
Brick,
One Last Wish,
Symarip,
Saccharine Trust,
Dead Boys,
Shoche,
The Young Rascals,
KRS-One,
Bill Near,
Ponytail,
Sparks,
The American Breed,
The Martian,
The Dead C,
Archie Shepp,
Judy Mowatt,
Ken Boothe,
The Doors,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Can,
Half Japanese,
Newcleus,
Quando Quango,
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rites of Spring,
Harmonia,
Deepchord,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rotary Connection,
Pylon,
Dawn Penn,
Little Man,
Mars,
Iggy Pop,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sugar Minott,
This Heat,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Black Dice,
Roxy Music,
Banda Bassotti,
MDC,
Q and Not U,
Flash Fearless,
Carl Craig,
Panda Bear,
The Divine Comedy,
Nas,
Pere Ubu,
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.