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 Papua New Guinea and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mad Mike to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Scrapy,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Country Teasers,
a-ha,
Funky Four + One,
Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eden Ahbez,
Skriet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Angry Samoans,
Joe Finger,
The Monks,
The Wake,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Godley & Creme,
Laurel Aitken,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Sheep,
Rapeman,
Robert Görl,
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Dave Gahan,
The Saints,
Avey Tare,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers,
The Buckinghams,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Barracudas,
Camouflage,
Ken Boothe,
Minutemen,
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
Adolescents,
Pere Ubu,
Jerry's Kids,
Little Man,
Delta 5,
The Seeds,
Morten Harket,
Barry Ungar,
One Last Wish,
FM Einheit,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.