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 Korea South and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Flamin' Groovies,
James White and The Blacks,
Agent Orange,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marmalade,
The United States of America,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonic Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hoover,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
The Evens,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gun Club,
Tears for Fears,
Joyce Sims,
Man Eating Sloth,
Unwound,
Derrick May,
Section 25,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pussy Galore,
Black Sheep,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Quando Quango,
The Blackbyrds,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Flash Fearless,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Easy Going,
Ronnie Foster,
Sex Pistols,
10cc,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Surgeon,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
Charles Mingus,
Piero Umiliani,
Monolake,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gichy Dan,
The Searchers,
Sight & Sound,
Eric Copeland,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rotary Connection,
Al Stewart,
June of 44,
Funky Four + One,
Television,
The Gladiators,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.