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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television 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 Bill Wells to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Boredoms,
The Red Krayola,
Rod Modell,
F. McDonald,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fortunes,
Zapp,
ABBA,
Talk Talk,
X-101,
D'Angelo,
EPMD,
Mad Mike,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oneida,
Pole,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Bananas,
It's A Beautiful Day,
a-ha,
Sound Behaviour,
Simply Red,
Monks,
Newcleus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Zeros,
Man Parrish,
Graham Central Station,
Banda Bassotti,
The New Christs,
Agent Orange,
Albert Ayler,
Altered Images,
Sly & The Family Stone,
K-Klass,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suicide,
Parry Music,
Anakelly,
The Modern Lovers,
The Gories,
The Offenders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kerri Chandler,
Leonard Cohen,
The Raincoats,
Intrusion,
Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
Interpol,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Germs,
Gong,
Von Mondo,
Juan Atkins,
Technova,
Robert Görl,
The Angels of Light,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.