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 Italy and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Deadbeat to the rock 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
OOIOO,
Wings,
Glambeats Corp.,
China Crisis,
Darondo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pussy Galore,
Ossler,
Big Daddy Kane,
New Order,
Ornette Coleman,
Swell Maps,
D'Angelo,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Real Kids,
Organ,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Flag,
Mandrill,
Buzzcocks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bootsy Collins,
Popol Vuh,
The Cure,
Country Teasers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
F. McDonald,
Scratch Acid,
Flamin' Groovies,
MDC,
Siglo XX,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mars,
Harry Pussy,
JFA,
The Knickerbockers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ice-T,
Talk Talk,
UT,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Womack,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
Section 25,
Roxy Music,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suicide,
Joensuu 1685,
Flash Fearless,
Camberwell Now,
Rapeman,
Main Source,
Roger Hodgson,
Sun City Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marshall Jefferson,
David Axelrod,
Surgeon,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.