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 India and from Delhi.
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 Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Prince Buster to the techno 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Joyce Sims,
Roxette,
The Associates,
Outsiders,
Mars,
Cheater Slicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
Dave Gahan,
Eddi Front,
Ituana,
Ornette Coleman,
Eve St. Jones,
The Slackers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Desert Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Niagra,
ABBA,
The Red Krayola,
The Gories,
The Stooges,
Fatback Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Cybotron,
Brand Nubian,
Second Layer,
DJ Style,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Cell,
Spandau Ballet,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bush Tetras,
Slave,
Skarface,
Aural Exciters,
The Divine Comedy,
Scan 7,
DNA,
The Offenders,
Theoretical Girls,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cowsills,
Crime,
Patti Smith,
Thompson Twins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Misunderstood,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fall,
Shoche,
Lungfish,
Amon Düül,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Stetsasonic,
Sällskapet,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.