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 Bangladesh and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scan 7 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pussy Galore,
Pierre Henry,
The Gun Club,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronan,
Monolake,
Saccharine Trust,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Pus,
The Music Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Rapeman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Schoolly D,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amon Düül II,
Rufus Thomas,
The Star Department,
Pere Ubu,
The Monochrome Set,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monks,
Alison Limerick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Scientists,
Joey Negro,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marc Almond,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash,
a-ha,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
World's Most,
Urselle,
10cc,
Youth Brigade,
Adolescents,
The Fugs,
Roxy Music,
Jacques Brel,
Laurel Aitken,
Moebius,
Alice Coltrane,
Dark Day,
Unrelated Segments,
Icehouse,
Electric Prunes,
Prince Buster,
Derrick May,
Marmalade,
The Toasters,
John Lydon,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.