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 Uruguay and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Rapeman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Cell,
Eli Mardock,
Todd Rundgren,
Brick,
Japan,
Graham Central Station,
Lakeside,
Iggy Pop,
The New Christs,
48th St. Collective,
The Selecter,
Derrick May,
EPMD,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sixth Finger,
Neil Young,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cramps,
Crooked Eye,
The Birthday Party,
Motorama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slackers,
Metal Thangz,
Unwound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Brothers Johnson,
This Heat,
The Slits,
The Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Khruangbin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Second Layer,
Rites of Spring,
Maleditus Sound,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Whodini,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
The Red Krayola,
Nils Olav,
Kevin Saunderson,
Scott Walker,
Drive Like Jehu,
DNA,
Moss Icon,
Toni Rubio,
Suburban Knight,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Half Japanese,
Magazine,
Con Funk Shun,
Fugazi,
The Dead C,
Janne Schatter,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.