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 Comoros and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Radio Birdman to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 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 X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Von Mondo,
Ohio Players,
Das Ding,
Model 500,
Blake Baxter,
Brick,
The Beau Brummels,
June of 44,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Sound,
Stereo Dub,
The Real Kids,
Henry Cow,
The Walker Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Wally Richardson,
Agent Orange,
K-Klass,
Carl Craig,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Johnny Clarke,
The Victims,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Stooges,
Icehouse,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Procol Harum,
Oneida,
DNA,
The Residents,
The Names,
These Immortal Souls,
Alton Ellis,
Soft Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gap Band,
John Lydon,
Magazine,
Unrelated Segments,
Piero Umiliani,
Tim Buckley,
David Axelrod,
June Days,
Television Personalities,
Junior Murvin,
Outsiders,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Terry,
Aaron Thompson,
Cameo,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.