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 Bhutan and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Swans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bob Dylan,
MC5,
Joensuu 1685,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun City Girls,
Davy DMX,
The Kinks,
Arthur Verocai,
Arab on Radar,
EPMD,
Fear,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
Sound Behaviour,
Barrington Levy,
Rod Modell,
Half Japanese,
Joyce Sims,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vladislav Delay,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lyres,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Soft Cell,
PIL,
The Red Krayola,
Brothers Johnson,
Wasted Youth,
Skarface,
Steve Hackett,
Pharoah Sanders,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Slits,
Youth Brigade,
A Certain Ratio,
Ken Boothe,
Laurel Aitken,
The Names,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Silicon Teens,
The Knickerbockers,
The Techniques,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Dawn Penn,
Amazonics,
Nas,
The Searchers,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.