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 Mauritania and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the 808 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 The Invisible 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Smoke,
Mandrill,
the Soft Cell,
Wire,
Cameo,
The Birthday Party,
June of 44,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Almond,
Patti Smith,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Public Image Ltd.,
Spoonie Gee,
Carl Craig,
The Move,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Franke,
Spandau Ballet,
The Young Rascals,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rod Modell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Five Americans,
Connie Case,
Tubeway Army,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jacques Brel,
The Remains,
Loose Ends,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Wake,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Hill,
Mission of Burma,
Black Moon,
Girls At Our Best!,
R.M.O.,
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
The Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
Quando Quango,
Rapeman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DJ Sneak,
The Saints,
Au Pairs,
The Evens,
Aswad,
Eric Copeland,
Skaos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tom Boy,
Popol Vuh,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.