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 San Marino and from Jakarta.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Neu! to the grime 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Slick Rick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Piero Umiliani,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Frankie Knuckles,
Inner City,
Delta 5,
The Slackers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
June Days,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Connie Case,
Hardrive,
Eric Copeland,
Anakelly,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
Deakin,
The Names,
The Pretty Things,
Brass Construction,
Subhumans,
Joensuu 1685,
Shuggie Otis,
Flipper,
These Immortal Souls,
Model 500,
Kurtis Blow,
Silicon Teens,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Holt,
Scion,
Rosa Yemen,
Fela Kuti,
Radio Birdman,
Franke,
the Fania All-Stars,
F. McDonald,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
Moebius,
Panda Bear,
Lalo Schifrin,
Howard Jones,
The Cowsills,
Smog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Trumans Water,
Tim Buckley,
Marc Almond,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Rites of Spring,
Television,
Organ,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.