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 Swaziland and from Accra.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 PIL to the rap 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
DJ Style,
Erykah Badu,
Franke,
JFA,
Albert Ayler,
Lightning Bolt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Andrew Hill,
Slave,
Sonic Youth,
Neil Young,
Slick Rick,
June Days,
The Invisible,
Basic Channel,
The Dirtbombs,
The Durutti Column,
Metal Thangz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Angry Samoans,
Patti Smith,
Cluster,
48th St. Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Ituana,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bill Near,
Animal Collective,
Morten Harket,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eli Mardock,
D'Angelo,
China Crisis,
Inner City,
The Young Rascals,
Cheater Slicks,
L. Decosne,
the Swans,
the Association,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eddi Front,
John Coltrane,
Ten City,
The Tremeloes,
Fluxion,
Unrelated Segments,
Radio Birdman,
Main Source,
Popol Vuh,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Blackbyrds,
Sister Nancy,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cure,
Qualms,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.