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 Poland and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the grunge 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Howard Jones,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Busters,
World's Most,
Con Funk Shun,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Fela Kuti,
Rod Modell,
Letta Mbulu,
Steve Hackett,
Scion,
Bauhaus,
CMW,
Joyce Sims,
The Vogues,
The Cramps,
The Trojans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
The Pop Group,
Kenny Larkin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Infiniti,
Au Pairs,
Wings,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Raincoats,
Chrome,
David Axelrod,
Mr. Review,
Accadde A,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Stooges,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nils Olav,
Masters at Work,
Reuben Wilson,
Arcadia,
Guru Guru,
Sun City Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moleskins,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Standells,
John Holt,
Public Enemy,
Deepchord,
The Cure,
Aswad,
Nirvana,
Soul II Soul,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.