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 Columbus.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 AZ to the grunge 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
The Move,
Absolute Body Control,
Ice-T,
DJ Style,
Nik Kershaw,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bauhaus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Qualms,
Agent Orange,
Monks,
Letta Mbulu,
Rosa Yemen,
B.T. Express,
Los Fastidios,
Pierre Henry,
Black Bananas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eric Copeland,
David McCallum,
Guru Guru,
Interpol,
Ohio Players,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Misunderstood,
The Blues Magoos,
The Red Krayola,
Inner City,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Main Source,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Scrapy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Surgeon,
Smog,
Jawbox,
Juan Atkins,
Wally Richardson,
June of 44,
Sixth Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
the Association,
the Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Godley & Creme,
The Toasters,
Bang On A Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jerry's Kids,
Patti Smith,
EPMD,
Con Funk Shun,
Marvin Gaye,
FM Einheit,
Kas Product,
Slave,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.