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 Bangladesh and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Subhumans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Minny Pops,
Whodini,
Fatback Band,
Mr. Review,
Rotary Connection,
The Standells,
The Trojans,
The Smoke,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Girls At Our Best!,
Visage,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Flamin' Groovies,
Popol Vuh,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marc Almond,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rufus Thomas,
Sandy B,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Thee Headcoats,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
MDC,
Bobby Sherman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Vainqueur,
The Moleskins,
Tim Buckley,
Infiniti,
Camouflage,
Barry Ungar,
The Modern Lovers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Metal Thangz,
Roger Hodgson,
Shuggie Otis,
The Wake,
The Pop Group,
Sonny Sharrock,
Altered Images,
Nick Fraelich,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Yusef Lateef,
The Angels of Light,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Byrd,
The Index,
Television Personalities,
Al Stewart,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.