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 Uzbekistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Saints,
Nick Fraelich,
Eden Ahbez,
Duran Duran,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aswad,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Blake Baxter,
Skarface,
The Dirtbombs,
Ken Boothe,
The Count Five,
Sonny Sharrock,
Erasure,
Rekid,
Stetsasonic,
Gichy Dan,
Pantytec,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
Swell Maps,
Scratch Acid,
Rotary Connection,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Litter,
Liliput,
The Tremeloes,
KRS-One,
Andrew Hill,
Motorama,
the Sonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glenn Branca,
The Invisible,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Popol Vuh,
Crooked Eye,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mark Hollis,
Organ,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Avey Tare,
Matthew Bourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joensuu 1685,
Judy Mowatt,
The Velvet Underground,
LL Cool J,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Move,
Slick Rick,
Gil Scott Heron,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.