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 Antigua and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Barbara Tucker,
Symarip,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Near,
Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
Ituana,
David McCallum,
Sandy B,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Throbbing Gristle,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harmonia,
Ohio Players,
Ice-T,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mandrill,
Subhumans,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Deadbeat,
H. Thieme,
Cymande,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Niagra,
Desert Stars,
Erykah Badu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chris & Cosey,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Pop Group,
Pantaleimon,
The Birthday Party,
Laurel Aitken,
Second Layer,
The Black Dice,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Unwound,
Shoche,
Delta 5,
PIL,
Whodini,
Television Personalities,
Roy Ayers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Supertramp,
Marvin Gaye,
Model 500,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Prince Buster,
Television,
Stereo Dub,
Quando Quango,
Slave,
Audionom,
a-ha,
Fear,
Smog,
Crash Course in Science,
Josef K,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.