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 Suriname and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dawn Penn to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jacob Miller,
Laurel Aitken,
Circle Jerks,
Bill Wells,
Lyres,
Infiniti,
The Modern Lovers,
Minny Pops,
The Toasters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eurythmics,
Barbara Tucker,
Banda Bassotti,
Barrington Levy,
Buzzcocks,
The Neon Judgement,
The Durutti Column,
Ultravox,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Moleskins,
Black Moon,
Sam Rivers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
AZ,
Bill Near,
Bizarre Inc.,
DJ Sneak,
Pere Ubu,
Country Teasers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Morten Harket,
Gang of Four,
Joe Finger,
Deepchord,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funky Four + One,
The Birthday Party,
Chrome,
Aswad,
Graham Central Station,
Mark Hollis,
The Motions,
The Monks,
Animal Collective,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Monolake,
Pussy Galore,
Sandy B,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dark Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Dolphy,
Toni Rubio,
Dawn Penn,
The Monochrome Set,
Porter Ricks,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.