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 Uzbekistan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Michael McDonald 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 Marvin Gaye to the disco 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Minny Pops,
Vainqueur,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Erasure,
John Holt,
Aural Exciters,
Zero Boys,
Max Romeo,
The Martian,
Boredoms,
Todd Terry,
Brick,
Shoche,
the Swans,
The Five Americans,
Wasted Youth,
Excepter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James Chance & The Contortions,
KRS-One,
The Neon Judgement,
Flash Fearless,
Deepchord,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wings,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nick Fraelich,
Fela Kuti,
The Grass Roots,
Suburban Knight,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Matthew Bourne,
Letta Mbulu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unrelated Segments,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nas,
Amon Düül II,
Porter Ricks,
Fugazi,
Magma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rakim,
Newcleus,
Wally Richardson,
Sixth Finger,
Icehouse,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
cv313,
Sandy B,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.