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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slick Rick to the rap 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Peter and Kerry,
Pantytec,
DNA,
cv313,
Bill Wells,
Mantronix,
The Young Rascals,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chrome,
48th St. Collective,
Dead Boys,
The Cure,
Unrelated Segments,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths,
Brothers Johnson,
One Last Wish,
Aswad,
Reuben Wilson,
Alton Ellis,
Infiniti,
Blancmange,
Interpol,
Lakeside,
Cymande,
Eddi Front,
Maurizio,
The Red Krayola,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lucky Dragons,
Silicon Teens,
Neu!,
Massinfluence,
Cluster,
Barbara Tucker,
The Star Department,
Grauzone,
Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
Toni Rubio,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Certain Ratio,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tomorrow,
Saccharine Trust,
Swell Maps,
Godley & Creme,
Flamin' Groovies,
Urselle,
Scrapy,
Connie Case,
Tommy Roe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kas Product,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.