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 Uruguay and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 J.B.'s to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Pussy Galore,
Don Cherry,
Warsaw,
The Evens,
Girls At Our Best!,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hot Snakes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Franke,
The Mummies,
The Sonics,
Cal Tjader,
The Names,
Cluster,
the Slits,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Blancmange,
Brothers Johnson,
the Germs,
Radio Birdman,
Black Bananas,
The Moody Blues,
Barbara Tucker,
Kerrie Biddell,
Man Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Bronski Beat,
James White and The Blacks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dead Boys,
The Move,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
Swans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spandau Ballet,
Camouflage,
Big Daddy Kane,
Archie Shepp,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Desert Stars,
John Lydon,
R.M.O.,
The Grass Roots,
Scion,
Subhumans,
Ituana,
La Düsseldorf,
Pere Ubu,
The Monks,
Sarah Menescal,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Wolf Eyes,
Camberwell Now,
Carl Craig,
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
Reagan Youth,
Das Ding,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.