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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 grunge 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
the Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pretty Things,
Reagan Youth,
The Sound,
Malaria!,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Lydon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Q65,
Ultravox,
Juan Atkins,
Rod Modell,
Unwound,
Ohio Players,
Suburban Knight,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glenn Branca,
Judy Mowatt,
T.S.O.L.,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Dawn Penn,
Cameo,
Soul II Soul,
Connie Case,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Idris Muhammad,
A Certain Ratio,
Dark Day,
D'Angelo,
Amazonics,
Average White Band,
Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hot Snakes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Skarface,
Nico,
Deepchord,
Model 500,
Bobbi Humphrey,
La Düsseldorf,
Absolute Body Control,
Sun City Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bluetip,
Warren Ellis,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joyce Sims,
Susan Cadogan,
Excepter,
Barrington Levy,
The Motions,
Nils Olav,
Sam Rivers,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.