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 Greece 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Red Krayola to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Blossom Toes,
Andrew Hill,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Severed Heads,
Groovy Waters,
Fat Boys,
Yazoo,
Crooked Eye,
The Red Krayola,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Dead C,
The Techniques,
Mad Mike,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy Collins,
a-ha,
Oneida,
Talk Talk,
Sonic Youth,
Leonard Cohen,
Gabor Szabo,
Monks,
Marvin Gaye,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yusef Lateef,
Sex Pistols,
Crash Course in Science,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Knickerbockers,
H. Thieme,
Oblivians,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Sherman,
Q65,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Count Five,
Rites of Spring,
Sarah Menescal,
F. McDonald,
Royal Trux,
Depeche Mode,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eden Ahbez,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crime,
Masters at Work,
Deadbeat,
L. Decosne,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Godley & Creme,
Eddi Front,
The Offenders,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Japan,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.