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 Iran and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Derrick May to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Leonard Cohen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radiopuhelimet,
Surgeon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Boredoms,
Robert Wyatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kevin Saunderson,
Henry Cow,
Jacques Brel,
Electric Prunes,
Moebius,
Television,
Mr. Review,
Zapp,
The Vogues,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
Albert Ayler,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter & Gordon,
Girls At Our Best!,
PIL,
The Index,
Whodini,
Spandau Ballet,
Dark Day,
Chrome,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mars,
the Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Minny Pops,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
KRS-One,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantytec,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Maleditus Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
Patti Smith,
Parry Music,
Aswad,
E-Dancer,
Marmalade,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fela Kuti,
Jawbox,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Joy Division,
Sound Behaviour,
Funky Four + One,
Roxy Music,
New Order,
Michelle Simonal,
Popol Vuh,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.