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 South Sudan and from Paris.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the techno 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Procol Harum,
The Doobie Brothers,
Schoolly D,
Reuben Wilson,
The Skatalites,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Piero Umiliani,
Glambeats Corp.,
Avey Tare,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Mo-Dettes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camberwell Now,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lucky Dragons,
Rekid,
Television,
8 Eyed Spy,
D'Angelo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxy Music,
Deakin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
Gabor Szabo,
ABC,
Severed Heads,
Rod Modell,
Y Pants,
The Durutti Column,
Public Image Ltd.,
Livin' Joy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thee Headcoats,
Oblivians,
Pet Shop Boys,
Liliput,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fall,
The Last Poets,
Cheater Slicks,
Albert Ayler,
John Cale,
Blake Baxter,
Newcleus,
Theoretical Girls,
The Stooges,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crash Course in Science,
The Blackbyrds,
Simply Red,
Juan Atkins,
Funkadelic,
Byron Stingily,
The Knickerbockers,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.