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 Marshall Islands and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Scrapy to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eden Ahbez 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Easy Going,
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
The Human League,
Ludus,
Quadrant,
Matthew Halsall,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Dead C,
Jeff Mills,
The United States of America,
Can,
Babytalk,
Marvin Gaye,
Jeff Lynne,
Dawn Penn,
Television Personalities,
Cheater Slicks,
Saccharine Trust,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moebius,
The Detroit Cobras,
Isaac Hayes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mad Mike,
Tears for Fears,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Trojans,
Todd Terry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Minnie Riperton,
Jerry's Kids,
The Evens,
Mission of Burma,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Tremeloes,
ABBA,
Organ,
Dave Gahan,
The Offenders,
Porter Ricks,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
Funkadelic,
The Gap Band,
Altered Images,
The Fire Engines,
Bluetip,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June Days,
Deakin,
Cybotron,
The Move,
X-102,
Davy DMX,
Sonic Youth,
Y Pants,
John Holt,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.