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 Suriname and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 The Alarm Clocks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Knickerbockers,
X-101,
Jeru the Damaja,
Y Pants,
The Star Department,
The Tremeloes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skaos,
B.T. Express,
Brand Nubian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Anthony Braxton,
Letta Mbulu,
Ken Boothe,
Arcadia,
Young Marble Giants,
Alton Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Happenings,
The Monks,
Quadrant,
48th St. Collective,
Symarip,
David McCallum,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
Slick Rick,
Arab on Radar,
Ronan,
Ultra Naté,
Aaron Thompson,
Pierre Henry,
Judy Mowatt,
Michelle Simonal,
Technova,
Kerri Chandler,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Liliput,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
Dual Sessions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Stooges,
The Moleskins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joe Smooth,
Ice-T,
Funky Four + One,
Procol Harum,
Hasil Adkins,
the Slits,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slackers,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Blake Baxter,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.