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 Burkina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bizarre Inc. to the rap 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bootsy Collins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
T.S.O.L.,
Ornette Coleman,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Maleditus Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Babytalk,
Nas,
Duran Duran,
The Stooges,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bob Dylan,
Neu!,
Anakelly,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nils Olav,
Ice-T,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Los Fastidios,
Porter Ricks,
Sister Nancy,
Rod Modell,
The Doors,
Wire,
Freddie Wadling,
Suburban Knight,
Josef K,
Aaron Thompson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Sonics,
Harpers Bizarre,
Aural Exciters,
Alphaville,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
In Retrospect,
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
FM Einheit,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barry Ungar,
Metal Thangz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sonics,
Little Man,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
R.M.O.,
The Gories,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Evens,
Dennis Brown,
Dawn Penn,
Gastr Del Sol,
Smog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.