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 Pakistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang Starr to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci 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?
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Laurel Aitken,
Camberwell Now,
The Gladiators,
AZ,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amon Düül II,
The Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
OOIOO,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kaleidoscope,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Busters,
Interpol,
The Angels of Light,
Kayak,
The Wake,
Whodini,
Pet Shop Boys,
Agent Orange,
PIL,
Reuben Wilson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Sheep,
Los Fastidios,
Joe Finger,
Youth Brigade,
Index,
Josef K,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
June of 44,
The Move,
Stetsasonic,
Alton Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
The Black Dice,
Porter Ricks,
Man Parrish,
Reagan Youth,
Zero Boys,
Bad Manners,
Jawbox,
DJ Style,
Arthur Verocai,
Leonard Cohen,
Rapeman,
Ultravox,
New Age Steppers,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.