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 Kuwait and from London.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Red Krayola to the crunk 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Circle Jerks,
Laurel Aitken,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Five Americans,
Half Japanese,
Judy Mowatt,
John Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Faraquet,
Nik Kershaw,
Grauzone,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rhythm & Sound,
The American Breed,
Funky Four + One,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
The Smoke,
Tim Buckley,
10cc,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marmalade,
Dennis Brown,
Cameo,
Rotary Connection,
Donald Byrd,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fall,
Simply Red,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gories,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Agent Orange,
Stereo Dub,
Echospace,
Jawbox,
Ludus,
Roxy Music,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Moleskins,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
The Flesh Eaters,
DNA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bizarre Inc.,
Television Personalities,
Kas Product,
a-ha,
Icehouse,
Nico,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.