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 Kosovo and from Woodstock.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Skriet to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Thompson Twins,
Bad Manners,
Chris & Cosey,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barrington Levy,
Oblivians,
Lower 48,
Letta Mbulu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cluster,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Whodini,
Severed Heads,
Buzzcocks,
Marine Girls,
Television,
Kaleidoscope,
A Certain Ratio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Last Poets,
Jeff Mills,
Loose Ends,
Youth Brigade,
Chrome,
Rites of Spring,
The Smoke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Velvet Underground,
Boz Scaggs,
The Gories,
LL Cool J,
The Move,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Don Cherry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eli Mardock,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ronnie Foster,
Jacques Brel,
48th St. Collective,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Franke,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harry Pussy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barbara Tucker,
Ralphi Rosario,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hasil Adkins,
Maurizio,
UT,
Amon Düül II,
The Techniques,
Barry Ungar,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABBA,
Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton, Minnie Riperton.
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.