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 Iran and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mission of Burma to the techno 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Camberwell Now,
The Moody Blues,
Marmalade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neu!,
The Trojans,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
CMW,
Icehouse,
The Blackbyrds,
Gichy Dan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Au Pairs,
Spoonie Gee,
Arcadia,
Chrome,
Davy DMX,
The Durutti Column,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Graham Central Station,
Derrick Morgan,
Eric Copeland,
The Grass Roots,
The Victims,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deadbeat,
Aloha Tigers,
the Germs,
Minny Pops,
the Normal,
Crash Course in Science,
Chris Corsano,
James White and The Blacks,
Ken Boothe,
Franke,
The Count Five,
Ludus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scrapy,
Unwound,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wasted Youth,
Tom Boy,
The Vogues,
Gang Gang Dance,
Colin Newman,
KRS-One,
Flash Fearless,
Isaac Hayes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Carl Craig,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.