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 Australia and from Taipei.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gang Gang Dance to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Ultra Naté,
Porter Ricks,
Thee Headcoats,
The J.B.'s,
Chrome,
Livin' Joy,
The Velvet Underground,
Camouflage,
Anakelly,
Eric Copeland,
Hardrive,
ABC,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Sound,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scientists,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
The Seeds,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ossler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Public Enemy,
Scion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dead C,
The Techniques,
The Misunderstood,
Traffic Nightmare,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash,
OOIOO,
Unwound,
Sun City Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
The Real Kids,
Crash Course in Science,
Radiohead,
Monks,
Jandek,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Judy Mowatt,
Niagra,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mantronix,
The Wake,
The Five Americans,
The Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
Sun Ra,
Essential Logic,
Bad Manners,
Darondo,
Connie Case,
Swell Maps,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.