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 Haiti and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the electroclash 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Bobby Womack,
Mr. Review,
China Crisis,
The Fugs,
the Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
The Five Americans,
Aaron Thompson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pulsallama,
The Standells,
Excepter,
Wasted Youth,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Order,
Ten City,
Public Image Ltd.,
Peter and Kerry,
the Normal,
Alison Limerick,
Fatback Band,
The Angels of Light,
Matthew Bourne,
The Litter,
Henry Cow,
Cheater Slicks,
Jawbox,
The Grass Roots,
Pantaleimon,
Interpol,
Grey Daturas,
Kas Product,
CMW,
The Sound,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Procol Harum,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Franke,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rites of Spring,
Altered Images,
The Cure,
Banda Bassotti,
Can,
Livin' Joy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker,
Crooked Eye,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Circle Jerks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Germs,
The Index,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.