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 Barbados and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Arab on Radar to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Don Cherry,
KRS-One,
Joe Finger,
Sight & Sound,
Lucky Dragons,
Ohio Players,
Fela Kuti,
Qualms,
June of 44,
The Trojans,
Dawn Penn,
Cymande,
Siglo XX,
Pere Ubu,
Sarah Menescal,
Scan 7,
K-Klass,
Popol Vuh,
Yazoo,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Fall,
Aloha Tigers,
Severed Heads,
Nik Kershaw,
Jandek,
X-101,
Nirvana,
The Young Rascals,
Franke,
Pussy Galore,
The Sonics,
Mr. Review,
Youth Brigade,
Dennis Brown,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rosa Yemen,
Marmalade,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Kinks,
Chrome,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Terry,
Main Source,
Ice-T,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Fuzztones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
David McCallum,
Alphaville,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke,
Soulsonic Force,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.