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 Luxembourg and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kinks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Camouflage,
Swans,
Depeche Mode,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Beau Brummels,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Siglo XX,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Q65,
Technova,
The Blues Magoos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Masters at Work,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agitation Free,
Sister Nancy,
Faraquet,
The Associates,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swell Maps,
Gang of Four,
Pierre Henry,
Deepchord,
Arthur Verocai,
Talk Talk,
ABBA,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fortunes,
The Raincoats,
Soul II Soul,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nick Fraelich,
Grandmaster Flash,
Loose Ends,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Unrelated Segments,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Normal,
Liliput,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
New Order,
June of 44,
Fela Kuti,
Babytalk,
The Misunderstood,
Wings,
Can,
Grey Daturas,
New York Dolls,
AZ,
The Cowsills,
OOIOO,
Fat Boys,
Visage,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.