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 Ukraine and from Toronto.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scott Walker to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Guru Guru,
Eurythmics,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Surgeon,
E-Dancer,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Monks,
Moss Icon,
DJ Style,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sonic Youth,
The Star Department,
Magma,
Scion,
Ultra Naté,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Japan,
Rosa Yemen,
The Busters,
The Happenings,
Interpol,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
John Lydon,
kango's stein massive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra,
The Fortunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Doors,
The Smiths,
Joyce Sims,
Davy DMX,
Pharoah Sanders,
Soulsonic Force,
Alphaville,
Subhumans,
Country Teasers,
Tom Boy,
X-102,
Vainqueur,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jawbox,
Jandek,
The Names,
Yusef Lateef,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wire,
The J.B.'s,
Oblivians,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Slackers,
Parry Music,
Black Pus,
ABC,
Suburban Knight,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.