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 Dominican Republic and from Jakarta.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stereo Dub to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Lebanon Hanover,
Maleditus Sound,
Model 500,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Desert Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Eden Ahbez,
Albert Ayler,
E-Dancer,
Mad Mike,
The Standells,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Victims,
Anakelly,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New York Dolls,
the Human League,
Derrick Morgan,
MC5,
Ralphi Rosario,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Darondo,
Dennis Brown,
The Detroit Cobras,
Boredoms,
Mo-Dettes,
The Litter,
Marvin Gaye,
Magma,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Reed,
The Fuzztones,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Sherman,
Angry Samoans,
John Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Porter Ricks,
Gang of Four,
Thee Headcoats,
Erykah Badu,
The Fugs,
Infiniti,
Charles Mingus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeff Mills,
Zapp,
Ituana,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
Intrusion,
Brand Nubian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
The Move,
Quantec,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.