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 Algeria 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Tres Demented to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lightning Bolt,
Hashim,
Bobby Byrd,
Flipper,
Tomorrow,
Procol Harum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lungfish,
Dave Gahan,
The Five Americans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Warsaw,
Sight & Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
Althea and Donna,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swell Maps,
Desert Stars,
Neu!,
DNA,
Ice-T,
AZ,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Babytalk,
The Cowsills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
Audionom,
Jawbox,
Black Bananas,
Jimmy McGriff,
48th St. Collective,
The Durutti Column,
The Evens,
Model 500,
Johnny Clarke,
Kool Moe Dee,
Buzzcocks,
Peter & Gordon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arab on Radar,
Organ,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Star Department,
David McCallum,
B.T. Express,
Siglo XX,
Junior Murvin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Can,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Qualms,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
EPMD,
Con Funk Shun,
Piero Umiliani,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.