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 Guatemala and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Thompson Twins to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Fugazi,
Supertramp,
The Names,
Chrome,
Reagan Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Todd Terry,
Camouflage,
Sight & Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Inner City,
Severed Heads,
Visage,
Television,
Pantytec,
The Walker Brothers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oneida,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Parry Music,
New Order,
10cc,
Glambeats Corp.,
Goldenarms,
The Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Bourne,
Groovy Waters,
La Düsseldorf,
Max Romeo,
Eli Mardock,
Warsaw,
Hot Snakes,
X-Ray Spex,
Popol Vuh,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stockholm Monsters,
Alice Coltrane,
Erasure,
Anakelly,
Dead Boys,
Nas,
Animal Collective,
Ken Boothe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
Bootsy Collins,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
The New Christs,
K-Klass,
The Grass Roots,
DJ Sneak,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sällskapet,
Mad Mike,
Ponytail,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brand Nubian,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.