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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Arab on Radar to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
The Raincoats,
Infiniti,
The Happenings,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacob Miller,
David Bowie,
Andrew Hill,
The Gap Band,
Jandek,
Man Parrish,
Fela Kuti,
Echospace,
Roxy Music,
Fugazi,
Dual Sessions,
Swans,
Suicide,
Surgeon,
Mandrill,
Stetsasonic,
Procol Harum,
Ralphi Rosario,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
The Saints,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jerry's Kids,
Mo-Dettes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camouflage,
Pere Ubu,
Faraquet,
Colin Newman,
Pussy Galore,
Rufus Thomas,
Iggy Pop,
Blossom Toes,
Dark Day,
Swell Maps,
Skriet,
Stiv Bators,
Flash Fearless,
Loose Ends,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Sherman,
Skaos,
Junior Murvin,
The United States of America,
Khruangbin,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Soft Machine,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
David Axelrod,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.