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 Bangladesh and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 The Slits to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Basic Channel,
The Monochrome Set,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
One Last Wish,
Newcleus,
The Five Americans,
Alphaville,
Ponytail,
The Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minny Pops,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
Drexciya,
The Blues Magoos,
David McCallum,
Gang of Four,
Gang Starr,
Quantec,
Black Moon,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Goldenarms,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fall,
Ituana,
The Buckinghams,
Unrelated Segments,
Liliput,
Shuggie Otis,
The Zeros,
Pylon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker,
Sällskapet,
Severed Heads,
T. Rex,
Max Romeo,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Jacques Brel,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Byrd,
CMW,
The Count Five,
Youth Brigade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blake Baxter,
Judy Mowatt,
Shoche,
Monolake,
Malaria!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unwound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eurythmics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.