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 Norway and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 KRS-One to the crunk 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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Boz Scaggs,
Surgeon,
Inner City,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hashim,
The Gap Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare,
Mr. Review,
Quando Quango,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Davy DMX,
The Sisters of Mercy,
kango's stein massive,
Tomorrow,
Dual Sessions,
The Barracudas,
The J.B.'s,
Ohio Players,
Ten City,
Blake Baxter,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Flag,
10cc,
Darondo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Technova,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
The New Christs,
The Smiths,
The Raincoats,
the Slits,
The Cowsills,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joe Smooth,
The Selecter,
Metal Thangz,
F. McDonald,
Aloha Tigers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bill Near,
Matthew Halsall,
Shuggie Otis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
PIL,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Almond,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Kaleidoscope,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Connie Case,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.