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 Portugal and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fear to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The American Breed,
Siglo XX,
The Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Count Five,
Radiohead,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nation of Ulysses,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Saccharine Trust,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Trumans Water,
Gang of Four,
Barclay James Harvest,
Make Up,
Sun Ra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Los Fastidios,
Pulsallama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young,
The Last Poets,
Drexciya,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aswad,
Eve St. Jones,
Patti Smith,
D'Angelo,
Reagan Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lungfish,
Q and Not U,
Ludus,
The Searchers,
Derrick May,
Fugazi,
Tomorrow,
Desert Stars,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Parry Music,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Sherman,
the Germs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Derrick Morgan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Angry Samoans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skriet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.