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 Bangladesh and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flamin' Groovies to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Cymande,
Organ,
The Martian,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Moleskins,
Television Personalities,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Green,
Mark Hollis,
Urselle,
Junior Murvin,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
Fugazi,
Zero Boys,
Hoover,
Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crash Course in Science,
Essential Logic,
B.T. Express,
Roger Hodgson,
Mad Mike,
Q65,
Minutemen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Underground Resistance,
Peter & Gordon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sex Pistols,
Bad Manners,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Music Machine,
JFA,
Maleditus Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Happenings,
Mo-Dettes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nirvana,
Supertramp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scott Walker,
Mr. Review,
Pagans,
Black Sheep,
Index,
The Walker Brothers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Soft Cell,
Accadde A,
Lalann,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.