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 Estonia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Drive Like Jehu to the electroclash 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Basic Channel,
Hot Snakes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Derrick May,
Barrington Levy,
The Gladiators,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Excepter,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
June Days,
The J.B.'s,
Henry Cow,
FM Einheit,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
Dual Sessions,
Carl Craig,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Move,
Joensuu 1685,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Accadde A,
Ronan,
Graham Central Station,
Subhumans,
Von Mondo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Connie Case,
Albert Ayler,
Vladislav Delay,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gang Green,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
The Angels of Light,
The Golliwogs,
Tommy Roe,
Laurel Aitken,
The Real Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crime,
The Seeds,
Schoolly D,
Model 500,
Loose Ends,
Lindisfarne,
kango's stein massive,
Moss Icon,
Piero Umiliani,
The Walker Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Archie Shepp,
Ronnie Foster,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.