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 Suriname and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Grass Roots to the techno 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Panda Bear,
James White and The Blacks,
Funkadelic,
Dead Boys,
Black Moon,
John Holt,
Crash Course in Science,
The Smoke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tears for Fears,
Hot Snakes,
Stiv Bators,
John Lydon,
Lungfish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Soft Cell,
In Retrospect,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rakim,
Neu!,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Sherman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Smog,
Kaleidoscope,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dead C,
Symarip,
Mission of Burma,
Can,
Kerri Chandler,
Duran Duran,
The Wake,
Scrapy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Slits,
Icehouse,
Quadrant,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
PIL,
Television Personalities,
8 Eyed Spy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Golliwogs,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
48th St. Collective,
Metal Thangz,
Darondo,
The Cramps,
Bootsy Collins,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Flag,
Model 500,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.