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 Denmark and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Vogues to the crunk 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dual Sessions,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cure,
T. Rex,
Rod Modell,
Heaven 17,
Harmonia,
Flash Fearless,
Masters at Work,
Stockholm Monsters,
Brass Construction,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Funky Four + One,
Rosa Yemen,
Don Cherry,
Gabor Szabo,
Main Source,
Amon Düül II,
Darondo,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Toni Rubio,
Sex Pistols,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Newcleus,
Visage,
Shuggie Otis,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Sheep,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fuzztones,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mr. Review,
Hoover,
Davy DMX,
Grey Daturas,
DNA,
Judy Mowatt,
Skarface,
Amazonics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Hot Snakes,
Mantronix,
Quadrant,
Roger Hodgson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Desert Stars,
Ponytail,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cramps,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.