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 Iraq and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Lungfish,
June Days,
Symarip,
Unwound,
Con Funk Shun,
Soft Cell,
Sister Nancy,
Archie Shepp,
Rufus Thomas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Rapeman,
Trumans Water,
Pussy Galore,
Harry Pussy,
The Fall,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Von Mondo,
Clear Light,
Marshall Jefferson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Christie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Easy Going,
Joyce Sims,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Man Parrish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerri Chandler,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marmalade,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Green,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magazine,
Eurythmics,
Susan Cadogan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Television,
Pole,
The Seeds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grauzone,
AZ,
Thee Headcoats,
The Human League,
Minor Threat,
Eli Mardock,
Spoonie Gee,
Procol Harum,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cameo,
Essential Logic,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
Tomorrow,
Minutemen,
the Bar-Kays,
Darondo,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.