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 Croatia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the rap 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
The Dirtbombs,
AZ,
Patti Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reuben Wilson,
Bronski Beat,
Television,
Skaos,
Rapeman,
Glenn Branca,
Gabor Szabo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ralphi Rosario,
Josef K,
Kayak,
KRS-One,
Stetsasonic,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cybotron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Desert Stars,
Ice-T,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Organ,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joe Smooth,
Brass Construction,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
The New Christs,
a-ha,
Suicide,
Black Flag,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scan 7,
New Age Steppers,
The Blues Magoos,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Golliwogs,
Prince Buster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swell Maps,
The Doors,
Liliput,
The Pretty Things,
Gichy Dan,
The Mummies,
Accadde A,
Steve Hackett,
Ronnie Foster,
UT,
Barbara Tucker,
Nick Fraelich,
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
Lower 48,
Neu!,
D'Angelo,
Fluxion,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.