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 India and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Sparks,
The Offenders,
The Sound,
Hashim,
Parry Music,
Crash Course in Science,
Slick Rick,
Essential Logic,
Ronnie Foster,
Sarah Menescal,
Nik Kershaw,
Brothers Johnson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Hasil Adkins,
Yaz,
Robert Hood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yazoo,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
Amazonics,
Mantronix,
Isaac Hayes,
The Monks,
Erykah Badu,
Johnny Clarke,
The Walker Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Porter Ricks,
Infiniti,
Blossom Toes,
The Fire Engines,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Kinks,
Qualms,
X-101,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ohio Players,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Remains,
Mark Hollis,
Quando Quango,
Fad Gadget,
PIL,
Junior Murvin,
Saccharine Trust,
Kas Product,
Scratch Acid,
the Sonics,
Buzzcocks,
Davy DMX,
Desert Stars,
Organ,
The Skatalites,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mo-Dettes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Guru Guru,
L. Decosne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.