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 India and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grime 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sugar Minott,
Howard Jones,
Radio Birdman,
Cluster,
Chrome,
Minor Threat,
Quadrant,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gun Club,
Hasil Adkins,
Cymande,
Deadbeat,
Gang Green,
Glenn Branca,
The Move,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barry Ungar,
Man Parrish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Babytalk,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aural Exciters,
Susan Cadogan,
Khruangbin,
Zapp,
Ponytail,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythm & Sound,
Unwound,
Japan,
The Star Department,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wings,
Dorothy Ashby,
Connie Case,
Max Romeo,
Vladislav Delay,
The Black Dice,
Jerry's Kids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lower 48,
Severed Heads,
The Mojo Men,
B.T. Express,
Underground Resistance,
F. McDonald,
The Motions,
Scion,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.