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 Armenia and from Delhi.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Judy Mowatt to the disco 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
The Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Mad Mike,
Leonard Cohen,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Knickerbockers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Q65,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David Axelrod,
Barrington Levy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
Tubeway Army,
Wire,
Whodini,
The Monochrome Set,
Young Marble Giants,
Oblivians,
Lindisfarne,
Echospace,
Fugazi,
Minny Pops,
Sixth Finger,
Fat Boys,
Can,
Main Source,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Womack,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Motions,
Graham Central Station,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Count Five,
Byron Stingily,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Barbara Tucker,
Nils Olav,
Drexciya,
Bad Manners,
Public Image Ltd.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Underground Resistance,
Cymande,
Cluster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Sherman,
Mandrill,
Moebius,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.