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 Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb 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 Warsaw to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Black Bananas,
Eden Ahbez,
The Knickerbockers,
Morten Harket,
Lou Christie,
The Smiths,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick May,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dead Boys,
Pulsallama,
B.T. Express,
Public Image Ltd.,
Radio Birdman,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
The Last Poets,
H. Thieme,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Offenders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
Franke,
Livin' Joy,
Pierre Henry,
Flash Fearless,
Minnie Riperton,
Avey Tare,
Warsaw,
John Holt,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ludus,
Depeche Mode,
Organ,
Rapeman,
Nick Fraelich,
Kurtis Blow,
Camouflage,
Anthony Braxton,
The Divine Comedy,
Schoolly D,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Lydon,
the Swans,
Main Source,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blossom Toes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ken Boothe,
Zero Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bootsy Collins,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.