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 Algeria and from Mumbai.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Cairo.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 World's Most to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wolf Eyes,
The Raincoats,
Faraquet,
The Cure,
Yusef Lateef,
Toni Rubio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Graham Central Station,
The Pretty Things,
The Saints,
Los Fastidios,
Ken Boothe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deepchord,
the Normal,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Electric Prunes,
Section 25,
The Five Americans,
Robert Hood,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
Cal Tjader,
Todd Rundgren,
Scratch Acid,
Laurel Aitken,
The Selecter,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hardrive,
Crash Course in Science,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monochrome Set,
Heaven 17,
Dennis Brown,
Nation of Ulysses,
Connie Case,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Intrusion,
Scrapy,
Black Pus,
The Names,
One Last Wish,
Oneida,
Blossom Toes,
R.M.O.,
The Grass Roots,
Gong,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Reed,
Niagra,
The Fuzztones,
Ponytail,
The Real Kids,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.