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 Lithuania and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Skaos to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Lee Hazlewood,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
Warren Ellis,
Infiniti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Suburban Knight,
The Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Faraquet,
Eurythmics,
The Knickerbockers,
Rosa Yemen,
Accadde A,
The Vogues,
Chris & Cosey,
Symarip,
Crispian St. Peters,
Janne Schatter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ken Boothe,
China Crisis,
Magma,
Nirvana,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Circle Jerks,
Audionom,
David Axelrod,
Jacob Miller,
Alice Coltrane,
Alison Limerick,
Cecil Taylor,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bang On A Can,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gap Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magazine,
Kerri Chandler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kayak,
DJ Sneak,
Maleditus Sound,
Laurel Aitken,
Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Hoover,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
8 Eyed Spy,
48th St. Collective,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Motorama,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Almond,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.