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 Estonia and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
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 spring reverb 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the crunk 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Inner City,
Franke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Charles Mingus,
The Fugs,
Kerri Chandler,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Velvet Underground,
the Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fear,
Soft Machine,
Gong,
Absolute Body Control,
Fad Gadget,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
The Mummies,
Marmalade,
JFA,
Crime,
L. Decosne,
The Slits,
Drexciya,
Minor Threat,
Jacob Miller,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
Lalann,
Desert Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantytec,
Roxy Music,
Marine Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stereo Dub,
Alice Coltrane,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
The Kinks,
Cybotron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bluetip,
New York Dolls,
Jeff Mills,
Duran Duran,
Hardrive,
The Dave Clark Five,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Count Five,
Yellowson,
Liliput,
Harmonia,
Bad Manners,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kurtis Blow,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.