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 Bahamas and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mojo Men to the grime 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Severed Heads,
Sun Ra,
Rosa Yemen,
Black Flag,
The Standells,
Rekid,
Letta Mbulu,
Iggy Pop,
Michelle Simonal,
Oneida,
The Divine Comedy,
Newcleus,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Parrish,
Pantaleimon,
Chris & Cosey,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Residents,
Eve St. Jones,
Depeche Mode,
Suburban Knight,
Lindisfarne,
Alice Coltrane,
Animal Collective,
The Offenders,
Joe Finger,
Monks,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Bourne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Main Source,
Archie Shepp,
Slick Rick,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Wyatt,
Jesper Dahlback,
Liliput,
Spandau Ballet,
Desert Stars,
Minny Pops,
Fatback Band,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bill Near,
Deakin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Slits,
Scrapy,
Popol Vuh,
Hoover,
L. Decosne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Danielle Patucci,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Con Funk Shun,
Charles Mingus,
Black Sheep,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.