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 Micronesia and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Unwound to the crunk 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Hoover,
The Shadows of Knight,
Second Layer,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Boz Scaggs,
The Dead C,
Fatback Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Underground Resistance,
The Birthday Party,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Dolphy,
Robert Hood,
Harry Pussy,
Saccharine Trust,
Oneida,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Desert Stars,
Henry Cow,
Qualms,
A Certain Ratio,
The Real Kids,
Cal Tjader,
Bang On A Can,
The Fortunes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Juan Atkins,
Davy DMX,
Stiv Bators,
Sandy B,
Zero Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Susan Cadogan,
Alton Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Bob Dylan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bronski Beat,
Scott Walker,
Oblivians,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Warsaw,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Symarip,
Brothers Johnson,
Inner City,
Moss Icon,
Max Romeo,
Pulsallama,
Joey Negro,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Swans,
Section 25,
Gang Starr,
Crime,
Amon Düül II,
Swans,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.