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 Marshall Islands and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar 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 Alton Ellis to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
The Offenders,
The American Breed,
The Mummies,
John Lydon,
Anakelly,
Interpol,
Brick,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jerry's Kids,
Buzzcocks,
Accadde A,
the Human League,
The Gap Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David McCallum,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Desert Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suicide,
John Holt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Prince Buster,
Lightning Bolt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jandek,
Laurel Aitken,
Isaac Hayes,
Lungfish,
The Music Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Swell Maps,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ken Boothe,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Invisible,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Leonard Cohen,
Half Japanese,
Josef K,
10cc,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
Ultravox,
Fugazi,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Dolphy,
Howard Jones,
Arcadia,
The Black Dice,
Black Pus,
L. Decosne,
The Birthday Party,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.