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 Sri Lanka and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Eric B and Rakim to the grunge 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hot Snakes,
Infiniti,
Lalann,
Bobby Womack,
Amon Düül,
Nico,
Gabor Szabo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ronnie Foster,
Gastr Del Sol,
Skarface,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New York Dolls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Shadows of Knight,
Unrelated Segments,
Thee Headcoats,
Duran Duran,
The Motions,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
Avey Tare,
Spandau Ballet,
Glenn Branca,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
Josef K,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roxette,
Sarah Menescal,
Newcleus,
The Techniques,
The Mojo Men,
Reuben Wilson,
Steve Hackett,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
The Tremeloes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
This Heat,
The Moleskins,
MDC,
June Days,
Tomorrow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Isaac Hayes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Pretty Things,
The Moody Blues,
E-Dancer,
The Saints,
Y Pants,
John Coltrane,
Mantronix,
Alison Limerick,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.