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 Croatia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 American Breed to the punk 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Ossler,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
48th St. Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Wally Richardson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boredoms,
Gang Green,
Stetsasonic,
Duran Duran,
The Dirtbombs,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Star Department,
Drive Like Jehu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Royal Trux,
Cal Tjader,
Derrick Morgan,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
Kenny Larkin,
Chris Corsano,
Technova,
X-101,
The Blues Magoos,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
10cc,
Los Fastidios,
The Residents,
Janne Schatter,
Scratch Acid,
Darondo,
Nas,
Erykah Badu,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liliput,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Pus,
Khruangbin,
Loose Ends,
Fluxion,
Minor Threat,
the Swans,
Soulsonic Force,
Warsaw,
Nik Kershaw,
Hoover,
Gastr Del Sol,
Parry Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soft Machine,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeff Mills,
Ken Boothe,
Sight & Sound,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.