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 Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba 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 Amazonics to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
The Blues Magoos,
Mad Mike,
Duran Duran,
Steve Hackett,
These Immortal Souls,
Tubeway Army,
Sex Pistols,
The Fortunes,
New Order,
Pantytec,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ken Boothe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
Babytalk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kaleidoscope,
Guru Guru,
Visage,
Harry Pussy,
F. McDonald,
La Düsseldorf,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Andrew Hill,
Sarah Menescal,
Banda Bassotti,
The Index,
Depeche Mode,
Byron Stingily,
Stockholm Monsters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mantronix,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacques Brel,
The Stooges,
The Fuzztones,
Wally Richardson,
Marvin Gaye,
Gastr Del Sol,
Subhumans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rotary Connection,
Rakim,
The Zeros,
The Remains,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Carl Craig,
Amon Düül,
Parry Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Panda Bear,
Liliput,
Metal Thangz,
Ludus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sisters of Mercy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Michelle Simonal,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.