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 Georgia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Woodstock.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scan 7 to the rap 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
T. Rex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
The Leaves,
Bill Wells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Hood,
The Remains,
Mark Hollis,
Livin' Joy,
Mandrill,
Piero Umiliani,
Television Personalities,
Y Pants,
The Index,
Bobby Sherman,
The Toasters,
The Raincoats,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Prince Buster,
Aswad,
Tubeway Army,
Unwound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donny Hathaway,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Desert Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Quantec,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Hill,
The Fortunes,
Liliput,
Pagans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Starr,
Adolescents,
Jeff Lynne,
Pharoah Sanders,
10cc,
Colin Newman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Busters,
The Trojans,
Black Flag,
Spandau Ballet,
the Association,
Banda Bassotti,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gabor Szabo,
Marvin Gaye,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mission of Burma,
Skriet,
Chris Corsano,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.