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 Mali and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Chic 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 Newcleus to the rock 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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
New Age Steppers,
Dennis Brown,
Barry Ungar,
Dave Gahan,
The Golliwogs,
Smog,
Skarface,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eurythmics,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
New York Dolls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Saints,
The Wake,
Newcleus,
Bad Manners,
Chris & Cosey,
Metal Thangz,
Panda Bear,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Germs,
The Durutti Column,
The Moody Blues,
ABC,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Hood,
Underground Resistance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Offenders,
Lou Reed,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scott Walker,
Leonard Cohen,
Blossom Toes,
Livin' Joy,
Carl Craig,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Aural Exciters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Khruangbin,
Clear Light,
Eve St. Jones,
Dark Day,
Ornette Coleman,
Second Layer,
Young Marble Giants,
Desert Stars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Buckinghams,
Lucky Dragons,
Idris Muhammad,
Cecil Taylor,
Guru Guru,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.