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 Poland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kerri Chandler to the rap 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Skriet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Saccharine Trust,
Donny Hathaway,
Boredoms,
Fat Boys,
Brass Construction,
The Divine Comedy,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
CMW,
Nick Fraelich,
Brick,
Pussy Galore,
Roxette,
Beasts of Bourbon,
LL Cool J,
the Swans,
Michelle Simonal,
The Pop Group,
Malaria!,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Zeros,
Franke,
Suburban Knight,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Music Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Monochrome Set,
Archie Shepp,
Scan 7,
Half Japanese,
Man Parrish,
Connie Case,
K-Klass,
Jawbox,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Hoover,
Outsiders,
JFA,
Mark Hollis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Young Rascals,
Davy DMX,
Public Enemy,
Lyres,
Dorothy Ashby,
FM Einheit,
Pole,
Schoolly D,
Aural Exciters,
Arthur Verocai,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Underground Resistance,
Mandrill,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.