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 Namibia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sun City Girls to the disco 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Suicide,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Average White Band,
Hoover,
Infiniti,
Subhumans,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pagans,
Avey Tare,
H. Thieme,
Siglo XX,
Alice Coltrane,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Terry,
Visage,
The Cramps,
The Trojans,
Q and Not U,
The Cowsills,
Chris & Cosey,
Barry Ungar,
Wings,
The United States of America,
Das Ding,
Surgeon,
Colin Newman,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeff Lynne,
Minutemen,
Jacob Miller,
The Doobie Brothers,
Deakin,
The Leaves,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Television Personalities,
The Blackbyrds,
The Stooges,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Slick Rick,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gories,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats,
Marc Almond,
Susan Cadogan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joensuu 1685,
The Selecter,
Scrapy,
Josef K,
Pantytec,
Howard Jones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
David Bowie,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Parry Music,
Liliput,
Kas Product,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.