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 Panama and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Juan Atkins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans 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?
The Invisible,
Flamin' Groovies,
Connie Case,
Junior Murvin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Blake Baxter,
Howard Jones,
Eden Ahbez,
Harmonia,
Oblivians,
Davy DMX,
Spoonie Gee,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
CMW,
B.T. Express,
The Fortunes,
Flipper,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bang On A Can,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Vladislav Delay,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pagans,
Section 25,
Camberwell Now,
Tubeway Army,
The Smoke,
The Martian,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sparks,
Marmalade,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cal Tjader,
Quantec,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DNA,
Peter and Kerry,
Country Teasers,
Tres Demented,
Japan,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
Rufus Thomas,
Malaria!,
Hardrive,
Don Cherry,
Mad Mike,
Derrick May,
Byron Stingily,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stetsasonic,
Motorama,
New York Dolls,
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.