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 Botswana and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 K-Klass to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Junior Murvin,
Khruangbin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joensuu 1685,
Soul II Soul,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cluster,
Marc Almond,
Derrick May,
Maleditus Sound,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kenny Larkin,
Carl Craig,
Scan 7,
Sandy B,
Throbbing Gristle,
Little Man,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Peter and Kerry,
Deepchord,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
KRS-One,
Chrome,
Wally Richardson,
Shoche,
Fat Boys,
The Seeds,
Archie Shepp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Average White Band,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Young Rascals,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fall,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Knickerbockers,
Das Ding,
The Invisible,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oneida,
Dead Boys,
Scientists,
Eve St. Jones,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Heaven 17,
Moss Icon,
Index,
Letta Mbulu,
Johnny Osbourne,
Angry Samoans,
Lakeside,
The Kinks,
Ludus,
the Normal,
Wasted Youth,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.