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 Guinea-Bissau and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Iggy Pop,
Stereo Dub,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Mojo Men,
Barrington Levy,
Joey Negro,
Jesper Dahlback,
T. Rex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pet Shop Boys,
Icehouse,
The Fall,
Urselle,
Masters at Work,
Johnny Clarke,
Wally Richardson,
Severed Heads,
New Age Steppers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
the Bar-Kays,
The New Christs,
Davy DMX,
Flipper,
The Neon Judgement,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Moon,
Amon Düül,
Sister Nancy,
The Names,
Nico,
Henry Cow,
Neil Young,
Toni Rubio,
The Saints,
The Sonics,
David McCallum,
The Standells,
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
The Real Kids,
The Count Five,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Little Man,
Robert Hood,
Rites of Spring,
The Evens,
Peter and Kerry,
Saccharine Trust,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Bananas,
Brothers Johnson,
Alice Coltrane,
Ponytail,
Interpol,
China Crisis,
Quadrant,
Trumans Water,
Soulsonic Force,
Agent Orange,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.