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 Burkina and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Duran Duran to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Wally Richardson,
The Index,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Barracudas,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Parrish,
The Vogues,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moby Grape,
Gang of Four,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare,
Surgeon,
Max Romeo,
Das Ding,
the Germs,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Fortunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fat Boys,
The Smiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mars,
Quando Quango,
Blake Baxter,
Morten Harket,
Kurtis Blow,
Fatback Band,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gories,
Vladislav Delay,
Masters at Work,
Brick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Finger,
MC5,
Rekid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Bill Near,
Bootsy Collins,
Charles Mingus,
Minny Pops,
Cecil Taylor,
Bauhaus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tears for Fears,
The Kinks,
Patti Smith,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Malaria!,
David McCallum,
Magazine,
Inner City,
The Moody Blues,
The Selecter,
Jacob Miller,
The Slackers,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.