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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Metal Thangz 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Crooked Eye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Faraquet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Reuben Wilson,
The J.B.'s,
The Shadows of Knight,
Symarip,
Lou Christie,
Adolescents,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Robert Hood,
Flipper,
The Modern Lovers,
Stiv Bators,
Derrick May,
Connie Case,
Altered Images,
Average White Band,
LL Cool J,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
Darondo,
One Last Wish,
Warsaw,
Wolf Eyes,
Lyres,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Television,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days,
Harry Pussy,
Sex Pistols,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amon Düül,
The Five Americans,
The Happenings,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Associates,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Agent Orange,
Pierre Henry,
David Bowie,
The Pretty Things,
Erykah Badu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang Green,
La Düsseldorf,
Amazonics,
Circle Jerks,
Howard Jones,
Ken Boothe,
Faust,
In Retrospect,
The Tremeloes,
Buzzcocks,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.