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 Kazakhstan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 organ 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 Kurtis Blow to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neu!,
Fluxion,
the Human League,
Niagra,
Cybotron,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Swans,
New Order,
Sun Ra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nik Kershaw,
Panda Bear,
Mary Jane Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Severed Heads,
Black Flag,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Normal,
Mad Mike,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quadrant,
Mars,
Wally Richardson,
The Skatalites,
Sarah Menescal,
H. Thieme,
Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
Black Bananas,
Derrick May,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nick Fraelich,
Gong,
Chris Corsano,
Gichy Dan,
Q65,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Leaves,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Girls At Our Best!,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
X-101,
Symarip,
The Names,
Radio Birdman,
Brand Nubian,
Warsaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bauhaus,
Ice-T,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.