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 Saudi Arabia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dark Day to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Gerry Rafferty,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
Black Sheep,
LL Cool J,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dark Day,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Second Layer,
Severed Heads,
Harmonia,
Deadbeat,
Tomorrow,
Soft Cell,
Chrome,
Slick Rick,
Desert Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Iggy Pop,
Cymande,
Altered Images,
Black Moon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
R.M.O.,
The Neon Judgement,
Babytalk,
Pere Ubu,
Kaleidoscope,
Hot Snakes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sarah Menescal,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Görl,
Siglo XX,
Scan 7,
Susan Cadogan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Seeds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joe Smooth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Eric Copeland,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gap Band,
Magazine,
Smog,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bad Manners,
Supertramp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Franke,
Drexciya,
The Velvet Underground,
Pylon,
James White and The Blacks,
Bang On A Can,
Marc Almond,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.