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 Sierra Leone and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Smog to the dance 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
The Dead C,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review,
Blancmange,
Visage,
Minor Threat,
Joe Smooth,
Bluetip,
The Victims,
H. Thieme,
10cc,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tom Boy,
Dawn Penn,
Trumans Water,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
Stetsasonic,
Moby Grape,
ABBA,
Juan Atkins,
Glenn Branca,
Radio Birdman,
Fugazi,
The Fall,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Agitation Free,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blackbyrds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sex Pistols,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sugar Minott,
Malaria!,
Wally Richardson,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arab on Radar,
The Doors,
Flash Fearless,
Zero Boys,
In Retrospect,
Easy Going,
Gang Starr,
Graham Central Station,
Loose Ends,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Kurtis Blow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Remains,
Aaron Thompson,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.