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 Liechtenstein and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Marcia Griffiths to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
The Five Americans,
Lucky Dragons,
The Buckinghams,
Glenn Branca,
Silicon Teens,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Vogues,
Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
Visage,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Toasters,
Amazonics,
Severed Heads,
The Cowsills,
John Foxx,
Soft Cell,
Section 25,
Brand Nubian,
Desert Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Martian,
Fad Gadget,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Rundgren,
L. Decosne,
Public Enemy,
The Tremeloes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cure,
Rosa Yemen,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed,
Slick Rick,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neu!,
Outsiders,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
Skarface,
Soft Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry's Kids,
John Lydon,
FM Einheit,
Bluetip,
Interpol,
Deakin,
Smog,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Fall,
Hashim,
Erasure,
The Associates,
Sun Ra,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.