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 Marshall Islands and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Hoover to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
the Swans,
The Misunderstood,
The Monochrome Set,
the Human League,
Sight & Sound,
Jacques Brel,
the Soft Cell,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Doors,
Grauzone,
Second Layer,
Kurtis Blow,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
New York Dolls,
Trumans Water,
Scan 7,
Simply Red,
Bill Near,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry's Kids,
Eli Mardock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pylon,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-102,
Panda Bear,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stiv Bators,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Electric Prunes,
Public Enemy,
Deadbeat,
Piero Umiliani,
Thompson Twins,
Jacob Miller,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
Moss Icon,
Icehouse,
Roxy Music,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill,
Alphaville,
The Gun Club,
Steve Hackett,
Zapp,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mad Mike,
Lucky Dragons,
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.