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 Jamaica and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 AZ to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Kayak,
Swell Maps,
The Names,
The Pretty Things,
T. Rex,
Howard Jones,
Tubeway Army,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Coltrane,
Eddi Front,
Al Stewart,
Pylon,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pantytec,
Rotary Connection,
Cheater Slicks,
Don Cherry,
Brand Nubian,
ABBA,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barbara Tucker,
Ponytail,
Agent Orange,
Nils Olav,
Roy Ayers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lungfish,
Los Fastidios,
Slick Rick,
Alton Ellis,
X-Ray Spex,
John Lydon,
Neu!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxette,
The Divine Comedy,
Duran Duran,
Ludus,
The Residents,
Slave,
Pole,
The Mojo Men,
David McCallum,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
OOIOO,
Rufus Thomas,
Cameo,
The Fortunes,
Television,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Reagan Youth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Frankie Knuckles,
Henry Cow,
Ultra Naté,
the Sonics,
D'Angelo,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.