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 United States and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 Suicide to the funk 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
The Angels of Light,
Cheater Slicks,
Donny Hathaway,
Country Teasers,
The Slits,
Donald Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joyce Sims,
Hashim,
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick Morgan,
Bluetip,
The Offenders,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crooked Eye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Standells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rosa Yemen,
Simply Red,
Angry Samoans,
The Victims,
The Durutti Column,
Mission of Burma,
Flipper,
Index,
Robert Wyatt,
Dave Gahan,
The Cure,
Sam Rivers,
Crime,
Quantec,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nas,
Hot Snakes,
H. Thieme,
Juan Atkins,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Divine Comedy,
Skriet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eddi Front,
Lalann,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Five Americans,
Roy Ayers,
Schoolly D,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lakeside,
the Slits,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DJ Style,
Sparks,
The Walker Brothers,
Barbara Tucker,
Darondo,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.