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 Montenegro and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Michael McDonald 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 Cowsills to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
The Golliwogs,
The Grass Roots,
Malaria!,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amazonics,
Jacques Brel,
Make Up,
OOIOO,
T.S.O.L.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Trumans Water,
Youth Brigade,
June of 44,
Andrew Hill,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra,
Graham Central Station,
Niagra,
Robert Görl,
Donny Hathaway,
Ludus,
Heaven 17,
Suburban Knight,
Thee Headcoats,
Hasil Adkins,
Q and Not U,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
UT,
The Blues Magoos,
Erasure,
The Gun Club,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Young Rascals,
Rod Modell,
Das Ding,
Wolf Eyes,
X-102,
Bill Near,
Todd Terry,
Sister Nancy,
Junior Murvin,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
New York Dolls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pantytec,
Danielle Patucci,
Neu!,
Barry Ungar,
Barclay James Harvest,
Accadde A,
Tim Buckley,
Model 500,
The Mummies,
The Zeros,
Hashim,
The Leaves,
Visage,
Q65,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.