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 Tanzania and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mandrill to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Sneak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Star Department,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
L. Decosne,
Harry Pussy,
The Selecter,
Cameo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June of 44,
Althea and Donna,
Dave Gahan,
The American Breed,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marine Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Foxx,
Sun City Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yellowson,
Panda Bear,
Echospace,
Fad Gadget,
Peter and Kerry,
Flipper,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spoonie Gee,
Talk Talk,
Nas,
Slick Rick,
The Dirtbombs,
kango's stein massive,
Niagra,
Colin Newman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gories,
Mantronix,
Bobby Womack,
The Invisible,
Ultra Naté,
The Fuzztones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Half Japanese,
Kerri Chandler,
the Sonics,
Fat Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Duran Duran,
Sonic Youth,
This Heat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rapeman,
cv313,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.