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 Mali 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Flipper to the jazz 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Shoche,
Faraquet,
Derrick May,
Deakin,
Arcadia,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Sherman,
Q and Not U,
The Martian,
Talk Talk,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fluxion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Halsall,
Marc Almond,
Howard Jones,
Archie Shepp,
Moss Icon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scientists,
Circle Jerks,
Scratch Acid,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sound Behaviour,
The Real Kids,
The Pretty Things,
The Searchers,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Flag,
Alison Limerick,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Enemy,
Accadde A,
PIL,
Nirvana,
Audionom,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ossler,
Man Parrish,
Fugazi,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pole,
Todd Rundgren,
Ornette Coleman,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Spoonie Gee,
Blancmange,
H. Thieme,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.