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 Canada and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wire to the techno 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Crispian St. Peters,
Excepter,
Brass Construction,
UT,
World's Most,
Easy Going,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arcadia,
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harry Pussy,
Barry Ungar,
Electric Prunes,
Max Romeo,
Morten Harket,
The Music Machine,
The Residents,
Leonard Cohen,
Davy DMX,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gichy Dan,
Iggy Pop,
The Stooges,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crooked Eye,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül II,
Suburban Knight,
Funkadelic,
The Moody Blues,
Boredoms,
Sandy B,
Pussy Galore,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neu!,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Monochrome Set,
These Immortal Souls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Skriet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Count Five,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liliput,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers,
Dark Day,
Porter Ricks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
X-102,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Y Pants,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.