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 Jordan and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
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 synthesizer 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 The Music Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
R.M.O.,
EPMD,
The Smoke,
The Kinks,
Blossom Toes,
June of 44,
Procol Harum,
Sun City Girls,
Organ,
The Saints,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
UT,
Dave Gahan,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
Panda Bear,
Maurizio,
CMW,
Donald Byrd,
The Barracudas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Loose Ends,
Heaven 17,
The Mojo Men,
The Fall,
Scrapy,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Green,
Blake Baxter,
Gichy Dan,
Jawbox,
Cymande,
Tommy Roe,
The Dirtbombs,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris Corsano,
a-ha,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Susan Cadogan,
the Germs,
Ornette Coleman,
Minutemen,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DJ Sneak,
The Tremeloes,
Bobby Byrd,
Flipper,
The Stooges,
The Cure,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Intrusion,
Anthony Braxton,
Can,
H. Thieme,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Alton Ellis,
Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.