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 Micronesia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Cybotron to the electroclash 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Flipper,
Davy DMX,
In Retrospect,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
One Last Wish,
Mary Jane Girls,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
Rites of Spring,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Shoche,
H. Thieme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Theoretical Girls,
The Pop Group,
The Index,
The Fire Engines,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gories,
the Swans,
Circle Jerks,
the Association,
Pulsallama,
The Leaves,
Ronan,
Dual Sessions,
48th St. Collective,
Barbara Tucker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Donny Hathaway,
Traffic Nightmare,
Michelle Simonal,
Cecil Taylor,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boogie Down Productions,
Smog,
Dark Day,
Nick Fraelich,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jacob Miller,
Bootsy Collins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Susan Cadogan,
Brothers Johnson,
Fat Boys,
Moebius,
The Real Kids,
Warren Ellis,
Toni Rubio,
Cheater Slicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scion,
Cluster,
Scrapy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.