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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the grunge 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Rosa Yemen,
Minutemen,
Marc Almond,
Cymande,
Cal Tjader,
Fear,
The Mojo Men,
The Fire Engines,
Parry Music,
The Litter,
Joe Smooth,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monochrome Set,
Trumans Water,
Rites of Spring,
Babytalk,
Bang On A Can,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Count Five,
Ultravox,
Magma,
Thee Headcoats,
Janne Schatter,
Flash Fearless,
Little Man,
Jeff Mills,
Chrome,
Altered Images,
Spandau Ballet,
The Five Americans,
Vladislav Delay,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacques Brel,
Desert Stars,
CMW,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Barbara Tucker,
Sun Ra,
Loose Ends,
ABBA,
Suicide,
Sister Nancy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rufus Thomas,
Drexciya,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amon Düül,
Sight & Sound,
Ronan,
Toni Rubio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A,
The Sonics,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scrapy,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.