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 Turkey and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Invisible,
Black Pus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fugs,
AZ,
Loose Ends,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alton Ellis,
Altered Images,
The Litter,
Lower 48,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dual Sessions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rapeman,
Newcleus,
PIL,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crispian St. Peters,
Derrick May,
Lightning Bolt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ohio Players,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sonny Sharrock,
New York Dolls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Busters,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
Clear Light,
the Normal,
The Smoke,
Andrew Hill,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Victims,
Kas Product,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Fall,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
Talk Talk,
Funky Four + One,
Al Stewart,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quando Quango,
Malaria!,
Aloha Tigers,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
Mark Hollis,
Terry Callier,
The Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Unrelated Segments,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.