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 Cape Verde and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 crunk 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
The Smoke,
Brothers Johnson,
Roxy Music,
Man Eating Sloth,
Man Parrish,
L. Decosne,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gladiators,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fear,
Kerrie Biddell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Shoche,
Young Marble Giants,
Byron Stingily,
Mo-Dettes,
Hot Snakes,
Marmalade,
Suicide,
Nas,
Gang Green,
James White and The Blacks,
Monolake,
Roy Ayers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Talk Talk,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Saints,
Agent Orange,
Bizarre Inc.,
10cc,
Public Image Ltd.,
Whodini,
Franke,
Bush Tetras,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Human League,
Monks,
Flipper,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gun Club,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
T.S.O.L.,
Tomorrow,
Hashim,
One Last Wish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Main Source,
Barry Ungar,
Liliput,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Essential Logic,
Fat Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Stooges,
The J.B.'s,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.