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 Cyprus and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
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 Holger Czukay 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 Davy DMX to the dance 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Gang Green,
H. Thieme,
Clear Light,
Todd Terry,
The Happenings,
The Searchers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-102,
Erykah Badu,
Carl Craig,
the Bar-Kays,
Agitation Free,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Pretty Things,
Flash Fearless,
Drexciya,
Camouflage,
Wasted Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Siglo XX,
The Durutti Column,
Joy Division,
Glenn Branca,
Godley & Creme,
Dead Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
The Standells,
Dark Day,
Theoretical Girls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Max Romeo,
Terry Callier,
Black Sheep,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cal Tjader,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Index,
Negative Approach,
The American Breed,
Lindisfarne,
Faust,
Newcleus,
Mantronix,
Rekid,
Livin' Joy,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
The Remains,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stereo Dub,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jeff Mills,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.