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 Italy and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Star Department to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Mars,
Brick,
Whodini,
The Durutti Column,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Sheep,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
Kayak,
Leonard Cohen,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
The Black Dice,
Procol Harum,
Main Source,
Pierre Henry,
Fat Boys,
Scan 7,
Monolake,
The Evens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Trojans,
ABBA,
The Raincoats,
La Düsseldorf,
the Soft Cell,
Accadde A,
Wire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Yellowson,
Simply Red,
Byron Stingily,
Chrome,
Rakim,
Yazoo,
Essential Logic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sight & Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun City Girls,
Moebius,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Pus,
Desert Stars,
AZ,
Spoonie Gee,
D'Angelo,
Aswad,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Funky Four + One,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moss Icon,
Marine Girls,
The Angels of Light,
R.M.O.,
Echospace,
Visage,
Judy Mowatt,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.