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 Georgia and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Massinfluence to the crunk 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Sandy B,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Derrick Morgan,
Ice-T,
Silicon Teens,
Franke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mantronix,
Ultra Naté,
Magma,
Kaleidoscope,
The Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thee Headcoats,
a-ha,
Metal Thangz,
H. Thieme,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare,
Wally Richardson,
Ludus,
Sällskapet,
Adolescents,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roxette,
Scan 7,
Warren Ellis,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Rundgren,
Unwound,
Tubeway Army,
the Slits,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Connie Case,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Arcadia,
Brick,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Selecter,
Reagan Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Model 500,
The Trojans,
X-102,
MC5,
Robert Görl,
Freddie Wadling,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
The Gladiators,
Cameo,
Eric Copeland,
U.S. Maple,
Scientists,
Rapeman,
Nas,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.