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 Samoa and from London.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxy Music to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Skarface,
Camouflage,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Byrd,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Niagra,
The Litter,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Mummies,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra,
Minutemen,
The Beau Brummels,
Ronnie Foster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Animal Collective,
Make Up,
48th St. Collective,
Aloha Tigers,
The Busters,
Harry Pussy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scan 7,
The Associates,
The Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Motorama,
Public Image Ltd.,
MC5,
Moss Icon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Almond,
Aswad,
Roy Ayers,
The Slits,
David McCallum,
Quadrant,
The Gap Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scion,
China Crisis,
The Smoke,
The Walker Brothers,
Unwound,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eddi Front,
Jacques Brel,
Gichy Dan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Brass Construction,
Siglo XX,
ABC,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lower 48,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.