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 Oman and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bootsy Collins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Lalann tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Joyce Sims,
Neu!,
The Fuzztones,
Flipper,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Invisible,
Black Sheep,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sam Rivers,
The Last Poets,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cybotron,
Crispy Ambulance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
MDC,
Ituana,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bush Tetras,
Underground Resistance,
La Düsseldorf,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Durutti Column,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boz Scaggs,
The Monochrome Set,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Grass Roots,
Bob Dylan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lower 48,
Piero Umiliani,
R.M.O.,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Slackers,
Carl Craig,
Scrapy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Monks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rites of Spring,
The Standells,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Stooges,
Barry Ungar,
Anakelly,
Tim Buckley,
Al Stewart,
Arcadia,
Dawn Penn,
Amon Düül,
Metal Thangz,
Lyres,
Los Fastidios,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.