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 Algeria and from Glasgow.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Q and Not U to the dance 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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Eric Copeland,
Donald Byrd,
Magazine,
Black Pus,
David Bowie,
Althea and Donna,
Aural Exciters,
Kerri Chandler,
KRS-One,
Harmonia,
The Sisters of Mercy,
L. Decosne,
Buzzcocks,
Neu!,
Danielle Patucci,
Pantaleimon,
The Litter,
Simply Red,
Roxette,
Ituana,
Pussy Galore,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick Morgan,
Howard Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Hashim,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boredoms,
The Associates,
Ice-T,
The Motions,
The Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fat Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Carl Craig,
The Remains,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
Q65,
Oneida,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lou Reed,
Symarip,
The Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Au Pairs,
Bill Near,
Minny Pops,
Scrapy,
Iggy Pop,
Shuggie Otis,
DNA,
Index,
The Smiths,
Wally Richardson,
Kaleidoscope,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare,
Porter Ricks,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.