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 El Salvador and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Stiv Bators to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
D'Angelo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pere Ubu,
Skarface,
The Blackbyrds,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Angry Samoans,
Dead Boys,
The New Christs,
Pagans,
Harmonia,
New Order,
Schoolly D,
Brothers Johnson,
Average White Band,
The Sonics,
The Birthday Party,
Sister Nancy,
Malaria!,
June of 44,
EPMD,
The Buckinghams,
Eli Mardock,
Amon Düül,
Lalo Schifrin,
Patti Smith,
Depeche Mode,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Music Machine,
Talk Talk,
X-Ray Spex,
The Sound,
David Bowie,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
the Germs,
Chrome,
Lou Reed,
Drexciya,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Buzzcocks,
Michelle Simonal,
Mr. Review,
X-101,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
Pantytec,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sound Behaviour,
the Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cluster,
Swell Maps,
Visage,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.