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 Latvia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 K-Klass to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Pole,
The Names,
Fad Gadget,
Blossom Toes,
Trumans Water,
Susan Cadogan,
Isaac Hayes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bill Wells,
Black Pus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
A Certain Ratio,
Skriet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arthur Verocai,
The Searchers,
Livin' Joy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Rites of Spring,
Minny Pops,
Royal Trux,
Absolute Body Control,
Simply Red,
Lyres,
Mission of Burma,
Suicide,
The Index,
The Fire Engines,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mojo Men,
The Smoke,
Mandrill,
Guru Guru,
Byron Stingily,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deadbeat,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Archie Shepp,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lou Reed,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magma,
Outsiders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Babytalk,
Young Marble Giants,
The Standells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Los Fastidios,
The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed, The American Breed.
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.