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 Sudan and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Slackers to the rock 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a sitar 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Newcleus,
The J.B.'s,
Lungfish,
The Searchers,
The Golliwogs,
Sparks,
Rakim,
The Black Dice,
The Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dave Gahan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Wings,
Robert Wyatt,
Tommy Roe,
The Count Five,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Divine Comedy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mr. Review,
Funkadelic,
Hasil Adkins,
Lyres,
Vainqueur,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mo-Dettes,
Derrick Morgan,
Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
June Days,
Amon Düül II,
The Fuzztones,
The Toasters,
Ronan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barrington Levy,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Byrd,
the Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
Second Layer,
Barclay James Harvest,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joe Smooth,
Tom Boy,
Pere Ubu,
Alphaville,
Agent Orange,
The Misunderstood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
The Alarm Clocks,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.