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 Namibia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Alarm Clocks 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Absolute Body Control,
New York Dolls,
Supertramp,
John Lydon,
Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
John Holt,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gang of Four,
CMW,
David Bowie,
Brass Construction,
Erykah Badu,
Ponytail,
Jawbox,
Tomorrow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Peter and Kerry,
Amon Düül,
Stiv Bators,
Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scan 7,
The Leaves,
The Young Rascals,
Man Eating Sloth,
Depeche Mode,
Andrew Hill,
Scientists,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reuben Wilson,
Swell Maps,
Ken Boothe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erasure,
Half Japanese,
Pantytec,
The Music Machine,
Camouflage,
Babytalk,
Outsiders,
Minor Threat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Nirvana,
Adolescents,
Mr. Review,
Harmonia,
Johnny Clarke,
E-Dancer,
Black Pus,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
Section 25,
Peter & Gordon,
Second Layer,
Sandy B,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Donald Byrd,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.