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 Guyana and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eve St. Jones to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Drexciya,
Dawn Penn,
Television,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
PIL,
Cameo,
Arthur Verocai,
Pagans,
The Red Krayola,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pole,
The Selecter,
Tomorrow,
David Axelrod,
New York Dolls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
A Certain Ratio,
The Music Machine,
The Saints,
Crispian St. Peters,
Icehouse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Isaac Hayes,
New Age Steppers,
China Crisis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DNA,
Moebius,
Mo-Dettes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Hot Snakes,
H. Thieme,
Eli Mardock,
Byron Stingily,
Godley & Creme,
The Offenders,
Unwound,
Babytalk,
Josef K,
Brick,
The Mummies,
The Seeds,
Sun City Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Bad Manners,
Johnny Osbourne,
Erykah Badu,
Bronski Beat,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June Days,
Hashim,
Hasil Adkins,
Dave Gahan,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Evens,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.