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 Armenia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 Deadbeat to the disco 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Donald Byrd,
China Crisis,
T. Rex,
Siglo XX,
Glenn Branca,
EPMD,
Shuggie Otis,
Graham Central Station,
Sex Pistols,
Yazoo,
Lyres,
Desert Stars,
Erykah Badu,
The Angels of Light,
Depeche Mode,
The Red Krayola,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Beau Brummels,
Arcadia,
Howard Jones,
Lungfish,
Patti Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
LL Cool J,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Amazonics,
Moebius,
Alton Ellis,
48th St. Collective,
Dawn Penn,
Essential Logic,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Arab on Radar,
Deakin,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Motions,
Byron Stingily,
Deadbeat,
Aloha Tigers,
John Lydon,
Don Cherry,
Alice Coltrane,
cv313,
Gabor Szabo,
Vladislav Delay,
Rotary Connection,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Crispy Ambulance,
In Retrospect,
Scrapy,
The Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Khruangbin,
Mission of Burma,
Gang of Four,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.