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 Tajikistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Angry Samoans 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Hardrive,
Janne Schatter,
Y Pants,
The Slackers,
Jeff Mills,
Rosa Yemen,
Urselle,
The Move,
Roger Hodgson,
Smog,
Sixth Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Suburban Knight,
Qualms,
LL Cool J,
Al Stewart,
Brass Construction,
Robert Hood,
The Dirtbombs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlback,
Depeche Mode,
Warren Ellis,
Byron Stingily,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Subhumans,
Albert Ayler,
Radio Birdman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Goldenarms,
Danielle Patucci,
These Immortal Souls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Porter Ricks,
FM Einheit,
Deepchord,
the Human League,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Tremeloes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minor Threat,
Symarip,
Junior Murvin,
Visage,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aswad,
Wire,
Anthony Braxton,
Alphaville,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Davy DMX,
Zero Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gregory Isaacs,
The United States of America,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Saints,
Funky Four + One,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.