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 New Zealand and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Aaron Thompson to the funk 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran 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?
Brass Construction,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cluster,
John Lydon,
Chris & Cosey,
U.S. Maple,
Jesper Dahlback,
ABC,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
China Crisis,
Organ,
The Pop Group,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eddi Front,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The New Christs,
The Gap Band,
Heaven 17,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shoche,
Marc Almond,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U,
Circle Jerks,
The Zeros,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Prince Buster,
Darondo,
Ponytail,
kango's stein massive,
Skarface,
The Monks,
Agitation Free,
Cameo,
Man Eating Sloth,
E-Dancer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxy Music,
The Birthday Party,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Crash Course in Science,
Suburban Knight,
Idris Muhammad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pere Ubu,
Carl Craig,
Ronan,
The Velvet Underground,
Kerri Chandler,
Thee Headcoats,
Ken Boothe,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tim Buckley,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Glenn Branca,
Nirvana,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.