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 Papua New Guinea and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Evens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Gap Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Amon Düül II,
The Residents,
Clear Light,
The Gories,
Faraquet,
the Fania All-Stars,
L. Decosne,
James White and The Blacks,
Bang On A Can,
Zapp,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brick,
Steve Hackett,
Mandrill,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
World's Most,
Peter & Gordon,
The Skatalites,
The Fugs,
Dawn Penn,
The Remains,
June of 44,
Minnie Riperton,
Matthew Halsall,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
Motorama,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Index,
Flipper,
Schoolly D,
The Young Rascals,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scratch Acid,
The New Christs,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Womack,
Infiniti,
Loose Ends,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joy Division,
Boz Scaggs,
Babytalk,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pierre Henry,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joey Negro,
Warren Ellis,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Görl,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.