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 Madagascar and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Organ to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
KRS-One,
Au Pairs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Magazine,
Bob Dylan,
Minor Threat,
Amon Düül,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sister Nancy,
Negative Approach,
Amon Düül II,
Subhumans,
Prince Buster,
Neil Young,
Kenny Larkin,
Pole,
Pagans,
Althea and Donna,
Spandau Ballet,
Howard Jones,
Roxette,
Los Fastidios,
Hot Snakes,
Loose Ends,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Todd Rundgren,
Skaos,
Kerri Chandler,
Vainqueur,
Sonic Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Average White Band,
Severed Heads,
K-Klass,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Black Dice,
The Divine Comedy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Bananas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare,
The Buckinghams,
Minny Pops,
Eric Copeland,
E-Dancer,
Soulsonic Force,
Main Source,
Babytalk,
The Star Department,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Germs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kas Product,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fear,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.