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 Mauritius and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 snare 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 Crispian St. Peters to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Graham Central Station,
The Associates,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The United States of America,
Boz Scaggs,
Eve St. Jones,
Eurythmics,
Ohio Players,
Dual Sessions,
Yaz,
Yellowson,
Hardrive,
Bill Wells,
The Young Rascals,
Lungfish,
Soft Cell,
Pylon,
Procol Harum,
Maurizio,
Duran Duran,
Deepchord,
Wings,
Johnny Osbourne,
Neil Young,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Raincoats,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Teasers,
The Dead C,
The Moleskins,
Mo-Dettes,
Harry Pussy,
Ten City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Motorama,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soul II Soul,
Todd Terry,
Bronski Beat,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nils Olav,
Freddie Wadling,
Chris Corsano,
Fela Kuti,
Warsaw,
Los Fastidios,
Aswad,
Agent Orange,
Ludus,
Second Layer,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crime,
Barbara Tucker,
Jawbox,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Swans,
Mad Mike,
One Last Wish,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.