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 Tajikistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultra Naté to the electroclash 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Metal Thangz,
Sound Behaviour,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
Big Daddy Kane,
These Immortal Souls,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The New Christs,
Black Moon,
Suburban Knight,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dennis Brown,
Saccharine Trust,
Subhumans,
Toni Rubio,
June Days,
Glambeats Corp.,
Camouflage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Newcleus,
Black Flag,
Alton Ellis,
The Moleskins,
The Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
Delta 5,
Soft Cell,
the Slits,
Henry Cow,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Blues Magoos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Martian,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Robert Hood,
Sex Pistols,
Lower 48,
Skarface,
Joey Negro,
Lightning Bolt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ronan,
The Misunderstood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Brick,
Tomorrow,
Pulsallama,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fugs,
The Monochrome Set,
Amon Düül,
Porter Ricks,
John Coltrane,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.