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 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Detroit Cobras to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Fluxion,
Erykah Badu,
Sparks,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
Zero Boys,
Ituana,
The Gap Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Invisible,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wings,
Eurythmics,
The Gladiators,
Frankie Knuckles,
New Age Steppers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Stooges,
CMW,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rapeman,
Unwound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
The Angels of Light,
Masters at Work,
New Order,
Mars,
PIL,
the Swans,
Yaz,
Procol Harum,
10cc,
Jacob Miller,
Au Pairs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeff Mills,
Q and Not U,
Dead Boys,
Public Enemy,
X-Ray Spex,
Crispy Ambulance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boredoms,
Sun City Girls,
Anakelly,
Kerri Chandler,
Susan Cadogan,
Sugar Minott,
John Foxx,
Pagans,
Letta Mbulu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dead C,
Malaria!,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.