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 Venezuela and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
Hardrive,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sex Pistols,
The Grass Roots,
Ken Boothe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grey Daturas,
Animal Collective,
Warren Ellis,
Jawbox,
Alphaville,
Mission of Burma,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dead C,
FM Einheit,
The Cure,
Main Source,
Skaos,
Kaleidoscope,
Fatback Band,
Maurizio,
Skarface,
Ten City,
OOIOO,
Howard Jones,
Hasil Adkins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mad Mike,
The Seeds,
The Gladiators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
CMW,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Happenings,
New Order,
Wire,
Fad Gadget,
Marine Girls,
Sixth Finger,
48th St. Collective,
Lower 48,
Scrapy,
Lakeside,
The Beau Brummels,
The Electric Prunes,
R.M.O.,
Silicon Teens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mojo Men,
The New Christs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neu!,
Amazonics,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.