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 Tuvalu 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Saints to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Procol Harum,
Sparks,
Robert Hood,
Glambeats Corp.,
Half Japanese,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fuzztones,
Bauhaus,
Sound Behaviour,
The Toasters,
Surgeon,
Electric Prunes,
Sixth Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Cameo,
Dark Day,
Radio Birdman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Technova,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
Ice-T,
Das Ding,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skarface,
The Kinks,
Anakelly,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Cell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thee Headcoats,
FM Einheit,
The Smiths,
Pere Ubu,
David McCallum,
Nik Kershaw,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ponytail,
Ludus,
The Selecter,
Zero Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moody Blues,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott Heron,
Yusef Lateef,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
John Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stetsasonic,
Swell Maps,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.