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 Ivory Coast and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Oneida to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Young Rascals,
Josef K,
Delta 5,
Nico,
Freddie Wadling,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
Moebius,
Jacques Brel,
Pantaleimon,
The Moleskins,
Model 500,
Maleditus Sound,
Howard Jones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Y Pants,
8 Eyed Spy,
ABC,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sixth Finger,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
JFA,
Half Japanese,
Motorama,
Warsaw,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Main Source,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Carl Craig,
Los Fastidios,
Pere Ubu,
Davy DMX,
Jeff Lynne,
Underground Resistance,
X-102,
Tim Buckley,
Tomorrow,
Danielle Patucci,
Ronnie Foster,
H. Thieme,
Tubeway Army,
Kaleidoscope,
Camberwell Now,
Sun City Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Sight & Sound,
Inner City,
The Walker Brothers,
Excepter,
Malaria!,
Donny Hathaway,
Dorothy Ashby,
Todd Rundgren,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.