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 Guatemala and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 This Heat to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Bang On A Can,
Masters at Work,
Main Source,
Maurizio,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Vogues,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sound Behaviour,
The Divine Comedy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Heaven 17,
Sandy B,
Robert Görl,
Oneida,
Ohio Players,
Trumans Water,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eddi Front,
The Fugs,
Marc Almond,
The Sonics,
Joyce Sims,
The Monks,
One Last Wish,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Half Japanese,
Parry Music,
The Mojo Men,
Malaria!,
Surgeon,
Brand Nubian,
Marvin Gaye,
Radiohead,
The Gories,
Cymande,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shuggie Otis,
Colin Newman,
Qualms,
The Sound,
Sam Rivers,
Anakelly,
The Black Dice,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra,
Donny Hathaway,
Erasure,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Womack,
The Gladiators,
Sarah Menescal,
Gang Green,
Fat Boys,
Yaz,
Funkadelic,
Swell Maps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mandrill,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.