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 Canada and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Yellowson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Lafayette Afro Rock Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Roger Hodgson,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare,
The Doors,
Skarface,
David McCallum,
Ultimate Spinach,
Whodini,
A Certain Ratio,
Wally Richardson,
OOIOO,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kas Product,
Fugazi,
The Walker Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Blackbyrds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Sherman,
Nas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moleskins,
Aloha Tigers,
Ice-T,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Crash Course in Science,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harry Pussy,
Fela Kuti,
Nick Fraelich,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Green,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Slits,
R.M.O.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Chris Corsano,
Pantytec,
Reagan Youth,
Sugar Minott,
The Mummies,
Procol Harum,
Negative Approach,
John Foxx,
Bobby Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
The Music Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Minor Threat,
The Golliwogs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.