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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sugar Minott to the jazz 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Sonics,
The Fortunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
The Evens,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
Lower 48,
Slave,
Lalann,
Wally Richardson,
Eric Copeland,
John Cale,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Vogues,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
The Associates,
Monolake,
The Names,
Porter Ricks,
Unwound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Terry Callier,
Skriet,
Stiv Bators,
Faraquet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Blancmange,
Siglo XX,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kenny Larkin,
Bronski Beat,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Johnny Clarke,
Thee Headcoats,
Hasil Adkins,
Bang On A Can,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
Newcleus,
Maleditus Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
MDC,
Idris Muhammad,
The Move,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Massinfluence,
Eddi Front,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amon Düül,
Mission of Burma,
Warsaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.