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 Uruguay and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neon Judgement to the punk 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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Trojans,
Brand Nubian,
DJ Sneak,
Maurizio,
Hot Snakes,
Joe Finger,
T. Rex,
Jeff Mills,
The Kinks,
Robert Hood,
The Doors,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glambeats Corp.,
Carl Craig,
The Vogues,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun City Girls,
Moss Icon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Invisible,
The Remains,
The Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
kango's stein massive,
Von Mondo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Youth Brigade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Suburban Knight,
the Human League,
The Mojo Men,
Severed Heads,
Sparks,
David Axelrod,
The Monks,
Moby Grape,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Barracudas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Quadrant,
Little Man,
Harry Pussy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fatback Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pantaleimon,
Boz Scaggs,
New Age Steppers,
The Stooges,
Marcia Griffiths,
Easy Going,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Selecter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stiv Bators,
Nico,
The Leaves,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.