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 Georgia and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Country Teasers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Toni Rubio,
the Human League,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eden Ahbez,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
Deepchord,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Slits,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Hood,
T. Rex,
Livin' Joy,
Harry Pussy,
Royal Trux,
D'Angelo,
Scrapy,
Kerri Chandler,
Fela Kuti,
Pylon,
Aloha Tigers,
The Evens,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smoke,
Scratch Acid,
Brick,
Easy Going,
Minor Threat,
The Divine Comedy,
Von Mondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bob Dylan,
Blake Baxter,
Soft Machine,
The Trojans,
Mr. Review,
Soft Cell,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Sheep,
A Certain Ratio,
U.S. Maple,
L. Decosne,
Shoche,
Patti Smith,
Sällskapet,
The Birthday Party,
June Days,
10cc,
Crispy Ambulance,
Supertramp,
Pulsallama,
Grauzone,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.