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 Swaziland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bronski Beat,
Pylon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Niagra,
Dennis Brown,
Mantronix,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Fuzztones,
The Divine Comedy,
Susan Cadogan,
Ludus,
Marc Almond,
Alphaville,
Tears for Fears,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fugazi,
The Pretty Things,
Goldenarms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Josef K,
Jawbox,
Toni Rubio,
Cameo,
Radio Birdman,
Eurythmics,
Bill Wells,
Wolf Eyes,
Clear Light,
Wings,
Soulsonic Force,
Connie Case,
The Zeros,
Section 25,
The Associates,
Nico,
Faust,
June of 44,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hoover,
Alice Coltrane,
Junior Murvin,
E-Dancer,
In Retrospect,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
ABC,
John Lydon,
Pole,
Groovy Waters,
Second Layer,
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
the Normal,
Kayak,
the Slits,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.