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 Afghanistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Make Up,
Bobby Sherman,
Alison Limerick,
June Days,
The Index,
Camouflage,
X-102,
Franke,
The Star Department,
Au Pairs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fatback Band,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
Lou Christie,
The Happenings,
Marc Almond,
In Retrospect,
Wally Richardson,
Black Pus,
Rekid,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Can,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
The Cure,
Nas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Anthony Braxton,
Fela Kuti,
The Moody Blues,
The Tremeloes,
Aloha Tigers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Andrew Hill,
The Slackers,
Delta 5,
Peter & Gordon,
The Neon Judgement,
The American Breed,
EPMD,
Roxy Music,
Marmalade,
Nick Fraelich,
Hot Snakes,
MC5,
Sixth Finger,
Pole,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Germs,
Harry Pussy,
Ultravox,
Nico,
Absolute Body Control,
Quantec,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Arcadia,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.