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 Mali and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 chamberlin 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 Arthur Verocai to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Newcleus,
Silicon Teens,
Sugar Minott,
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
Davy DMX,
The Associates,
Rosa Yemen,
Boogie Down Productions,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Masters at Work,
Vainqueur,
Bootsy Collins,
K-Klass,
The Invisible,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zapp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Grey Daturas,
Cal Tjader,
DNA,
Talk Talk,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Happenings,
Kas Product,
Godley & Creme,
The Cramps,
Joey Negro,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Absolute Body Control,
EPMD,
The Five Americans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Kevin Saunderson,
Hoover,
Cymande,
Terrestrial Tones,
Erasure,
Jandek,
Ultravox,
Animal Collective,
Dual Sessions,
Crime,
Colin Newman,
Television Personalities,
The Music Machine,
Saccharine Trust,
John Lydon,
Easy Going,
Pagans,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Y Pants,
Guru Guru,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.