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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Neon Judgement to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell 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?
The Mummies,
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
Pantytec,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deakin,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fire Engines,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Knickerbockers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joey Negro,
The Names,
Franke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amazonics,
Scott Walker,
New Order,
Cymande,
Sister Nancy,
Circle Jerks,
JFA,
Brand Nubian,
Sparks,
The Wake,
PIL,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nas,
Jandek,
Zero Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Cameo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Interpol,
a-ha,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Bar-Kays,
Oblivians,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Smog,
Soul Sonic Force,
Albert Ayler,
Brothers Johnson,
Morten Harket,
Swell Maps,
Soft Machine,
Faust,
Banda Bassotti,
Bronski Beat,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jawbox,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kerri Chandler,
Bill Near,
Groovy Waters,
Urselle,
Ten City,
Arthur Verocai,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.