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 Morocco and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the techno 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Newcleus,
Curtis Mayfield,
F. McDonald,
Pagans,
L. Decosne,
Chrome,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
X-Ray Spex,
A Certain Ratio,
The Birthday Party,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doors,
Arthur Verocai,
Tommy Roe,
Outsiders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Iggy Pop,
The Stooges,
Roxette,
Fat Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Godley & Creme,
Tres Demented,
Gong,
Arcadia,
The Music Machine,
Rod Modell,
Aloha Tigers,
Johnny Osbourne,
K-Klass,
Frankie Knuckles,
Procol Harum,
The Modern Lovers,
Rufus Thomas,
Lindisfarne,
Nico,
Cal Tjader,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sam Rivers,
the Bar-Kays,
48th St. Collective,
Slick Rick,
AZ,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Womack,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brothers Johnson,
R.M.O.,
The Five Americans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Loose Ends,
Dennis Brown,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.