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 Romania and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Nas,
Parry Music,
Tim Buckley,
Bobby Sherman,
Jimmy McGriff,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Victims,
CMW,
Yaz,
ABBA,
Mark Hollis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ohio Players,
The Seeds,
Circle Jerks,
Todd Rundgren,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Heaven 17,
Fatback Band,
Albert Ayler,
F. McDonald,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rosa Yemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tom Boy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Trojans,
Visage,
Eric Dolphy,
Sandy B,
Amazonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yellowson,
Cheater Slicks,
Accadde A,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Age Steppers,
The Count Five,
The Offenders,
Buzzcocks,
Erasure,
Terrestrial Tones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joe Finger,
Henry Cow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Idris Muhammad,
Isaac Hayes,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
Agitation Free,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Scientists,
Kerri Chandler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monochrome Set,
Hardrive,
The Barracudas,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.