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 San Marino and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lebanon Hanover to the techno 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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hot Snakes,
The Slits,
Pagans,
This Heat,
Minny Pops,
Ice-T,
The Human League,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
John Lydon,
Eli Mardock,
Swans,
Cal Tjader,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alphaville,
L. Decosne,
K-Klass,
The Cowsills,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Moebius,
Nils Olav,
Unrelated Segments,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camouflage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Desert Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sam Rivers,
Max Romeo,
X-102,
Nick Fraelich,
Minor Threat,
Funky Four + One,
Model 500,
Jesper Dahlback,
Faust,
The Leaves,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eurythmics,
Pet Shop Boys,
Zero Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Byron Stingily,
Reagan Youth,
a-ha,
Harmonia,
Sun City Girls,
The Black Dice,
Swell Maps,
LL Cool J,
Jacques Brel,
Clear Light,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
Alice Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Sparks,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.