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 Equatorial Guinea and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rites of Spring to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Swans,
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Youth Brigade,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
The Skatalites,
Flash Fearless,
Interpol,
Sound Behaviour,
Gregory Isaacs,
Hot Snakes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Skarface,
Scrapy,
the Human League,
Malaria!,
The Smoke,
Ossler,
Pierre Henry,
Joe Smooth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Henry Cow,
The Stooges,
T.S.O.L.,
JFA,
The Toasters,
Moss Icon,
Hashim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Chrome,
Clear Light,
ABC,
Popol Vuh,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
X-101,
Franke,
CMW,
KRS-One,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Brick,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Wake,
The Victims,
Los Fastidios,
Black Sheep,
the Bar-Kays,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
Cecil Taylor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.